Call Me Blade✔

One: I hate it here

Faith's crying is what wakes me up. It's still dark put but I check my phone to see that it's almost six. This my normal now that I've grown accustomed to over the months. Faith cries, through the night manages to wake up at roughly the same time each time she does. Between her cries and my mind, I run on little to no sleep. How awful is it that being asleep and being awake are both equally dreadful.

The six month old baby is easy for the most part. She doesn't cry unnecessarily, and isn't noisy. It makes taking care if her a lot less stressful, but that doesn't mean much. Between taking care of Faith, living with Melissa and going to school, my life is far from easy.

I balance Faith on my hip, rocking her slightly while I mix her bottle on the table in my room. You could barely see the dark wood because it's bombarded with the essential baby supplies needed to care for a small human. Faith cooes to herself, stuffing her chubby fist into her mouth as she awaits her breakfast.
I have mastered the ability to mix a bottle with one hand as I hold her in the other.

I feed Faith her bottle as I sit down. It's a struggle to get ready while keeping an eye on her. When she's finished eating, I put her in her crib, so I can get myself ready for school. I have become used to the routine over the past months. Be a mom to baby I didn't make, then work towards a future I didn't want.

Melissa, as usual, ignores me when I enter the spacious downstairs of her house. We tolerate each other for the most part, but she really only acknowledged my existence when she gets so drunk she can barely stand. That's when she tells me that I'm worthless or hits me-- luckily the latter was a rare occasion

I have time to spare before I have to leave, so I pop a piece of bread into the toaster. My eating habits are horrendous since I'm usually caught up with other things in life, but I've barely eaten anything the past three days. I need to at least try to stay alive. After smearing butter onto the two pieces of toast, I'm on my way to school. Faith is hanging off my front in her carrier, her bubbly demeanor matching the sunny morning.

The daycare is a few blocks away from school. One of the perks of this town is that most things are within walking distance of each other. A blessing for my overworked legs.

The school building coming into view is daunting. The people, loud noises, and small spaces always gave me a dull, long lasting headache which wouldn't be so bad if no one noticed me. Unfortunately, I'm the school's token outcast. I was branded a unlikable in middle school and it transferred over with me into high school, so now I'm the butt of everyone's jokes.

I like to count how many insults would get thrown my way before the first period bell rang. The highest number so far was 15.

"Attention seeker." One..

"Suicidal emo." Two.

Someone did a facial expression to imply I was retarded. Three. Nothing like an ableist gesture to put my muteness on display.

There are many assumptions about me. About why I don't speak. About the murder of my parents. About the scars on my body. Most people assume I was born mute. Sometimes I forget I wasn't. The scars on my body are self-explanatory, but I do my best to keep them hidden. I don't need anyone prying into my life.

The first class of the day is English and our teacher is more than eager to slap us with a paper worth 30% of our final grade. She tries easing the pain by saying it can be done in pairs, but that doesn't make it better. It's a given I'll be working alone, which is much easier for me considering I'd end up doing all the work anyway.

The day progresses with little to no physical bullying. Verbal insults are a given, but as the saying goes, 'Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will forever scar my soul.'

An unexpected foot appears in my direct path, causing me to fall. Since my hands are occupied with books, I don't have enough time to break my fall and I land on my face.

Great. That will surely bruise.

"Oops, I'm so sorry." The voice unmistakably belonged to Alice. The dark haired she-devil who makes my life more agonizing than it already is. My head is throbbing and tears are pooling in my eyes.

I pick myself up, gathering the scattered books in my hands before walking out of the building, ignoring the laughs and snickers behind me that serve as a reminder for why I hate my life. For why I hate it here.

****

The park is one of the few places where I can relax. This park in particular holds a special place in my heart. It was where I always came with my parents when I was younger. We would play freeze tag or throw a Frisbee around. Normal family things. As normal as a family who lost their child, but it was still happier than my reality now.

My heart clenches painfully seeing two parents play with their kids or a child throwing something for their dog to fetch. Being here is peaceful but also painful when watching everyone do all the things I lost. The things I don't have anymore.

My thoughts halt when a big shaggy brown dog brushes against my leg, startling me. The dopey dog looks helpless since the ball had rolled under the bench, out of his reach. He whimpers, trying to get it but he's too big.

I get on my knees and reach under the bench to retrieve the ball. The dog sits expectantly and I reel my hand back and throw it. He chases after it and my mood lifts at the simple pleasure the dog gets from chasing a ball.

If only life is that easy.

I sit back down to continue my people watching. I catch sight of the same dog running back towards me, his long fur ruffling in the wind. He drops the ball at my feet again, and I bend over to pick it up.

"He likes you." I look up to see a tall brown skin boy smiling at me. He bends down and rubs the dog's head. "This is Dorito." He extends his hand to me, "and I'm Dustin."

I shake his hand, and he tilts his head looking at me confused.

"Not much of a talker?" He asks.

I shrug.

He looks at me curiously, but he just gestures to his dog. "He's waiting."

I nod, standing up and throwing the ball again, Dorito taking off after it.

"It was nice meeting you," Dustin gives me a small wave before walking off after his dog. I watch the duo some more before getting up to leave.

It's time for me to pick Faith up.

***

Hello!

I hope you're doing well :)

I had taken this story down with the intention of editing and re-writing some things. The story line is mostly the same from before with just a few edits to the plot.

Please let me know what you think. I'd love to hear your thoughts ♡

-aj