Lina's POV
I looked both ways before unwrapping the second pack of the day, pulling out one of the mini killers. Ironic thing about cigarettes - they are both your enemies, and your best friends. They kill you, but you love them.
I lit up my mini killer and place it in my mouth, puffing out the smoke and watching it rise in the air and disappear. I close my eyes and gently lean my back against the cold brick wall.
"Hey!" I heard a voice shout from a couple of feet away.
I panic and drop the cigarette to the ground, stomping on it and kicking it to the side so it wasn't visible. I could deal with getting caught for ditching, but I cannot be caught for smoking on school property.
The person belonging to the voice steps forward, and I realize that it is the principal of my school - also known as my mother.
"Lina Maria Buggers," she says in disbelief, eyes widening. "Are you ditching school?"
"Well, not necessarily," I said, a bit relieved that it was my mother, and a bit more panicked because it was my mother. "I'm still on school property, so I'm technically not ditching."
She shook her head. "You should be in class."
"Can't."
"Another one of those days?"
"Yup."
She gave me a look of concern. "Do I need to suspend someone?"
"Suspending them isn't going to help me," I scowled. "It wouldn't change their views on me - in fact, it would make things worse."
"Honey, if you just maybe told them the truth-"
"If I told them the truth they wouldn't believe me anyway!" I exclaim. "They have no business knowing the truth. Besides, the last time I tried telling the truth to someone - well, you know what happened."
My mom sighed. "I can't just not do anything about it. It kills me seeing you hurt."
"I'm not hurt; just damaged. There's a difference, mother."
She stares at me for a moment, and I stare back. The winds picks up a little, lifting her dark brown hair over her shoulder. Her blue eyes gaze into my similar ones, though they were always much brighter than mine. She stands just above 5'6", me hovering just a bit over her. My mom is a beautiful person, I realize.
And she is just as damaged as me.
Finally, she speaks. "I'm going to let you go home early, okay? Just... get some rest and let me handle things."
I nod. "Thank you, mom."
She turns and walks back inside, leaving me in the slightly freezing air. The flat cigarette is just under my boot where I had hid it. I don't know what I would do if my mom knew I was smoking. She'd probably feel hurt.
I walk back home quickly, eager to climb back into bed in which I desired to do so since I climbed out this morning. The sky is cloudy, proposing that it will rain later in the day.
October is my least favorite month - well, every month is my least favorite month - but October is the month I truly despise with the bottom of heart. And it's for one reason only.
My father.
But I have sworn not to mention that asshole's name, so my story with him will remain unknown for the time being.
I take a small inhale of the damp yet frigid air. It's much fresher than cigarette smoke, since it doesn't suffocate you. But the suffocation of my lungs feels better than the suffocation of my brain, so that's why I smoke.
