Some of the things in this story are true. Some are things that have happened to me, my friends or people I know.
This subject means a lot to me. It has been part of my life.
Thank you for reading.
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The feeling of dread settled on me.
It was Monday.
Monday. I would have another five days of school before I could have a break from it all again. It was hardly a break though... Cowering in my house for two days, too much of a wimp to go outside. But, on Sunday, I would start this unforgiving cycle again.
I felt sick, like I had every morning for the last 3 years. I knew that I wouldn't get a day off. That never worked.
I dragged my stone body up from the bed. What would happen today then? What would they do to me today to make me feel even more worthless then they did on Friday? Same old same old.
I dressed quickly, picking the clothes from the bottom draw. I dragged a brush through my scraggly brown-blond hair.
There was no way I could get to the door without seeing my reflection. I needed to look anyway. I couldn't avoid the truth all of today. All of my life.
How bad would it be? I clenched my jaw and, braving the dreaded mirror, stepped forwards.
My cheekbone had turned a purply blue, with pink circling it. Looking at my reflection, I ran my fingertip over it, lightly brushing it. It stung, a burst of pain, so I gritted my teeth and applied some concealer.
It didn't hide it completely, or the black bags under my eyes, so I decided I'd just have to suck it up.
A few minutes later I climbed onto the bus and sat by myself, knowing that no one would sit with me anyway. I thrust my headphones into my ears and turned up the volume to full.
At the second chorus of "When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done, help me leave behind some reasons to be missed," I felt wetness in my hair. I swung round in time to get chocolate milkshake poured over my head.
A harsh laugh spread through the bus, even audible through the loud music.
Ah, I thought to myself, welcome to Monday.
I wiped the liquid from my eyes, a second too late remembering my bruise. Furious stinging started up; The concealer brushing off onto my fingers.
Dammit.
I swept back the wet hair that had stuck itself to my forehead. The headphones cracked, and then fell silent.
Double dammit.
I yanked them out of my ears and shoved them back into my pocket. Wringing out my hair, I excepted that today would be like any other. Awful.
The 15 minute journey seemed like a lifetime as I stepped off the bus and began walking towards the nearest toilets to get cleaned up, ignoring the sniggers that drifted from the students around me. I knew that they would be there, taunting me, and they would be there as I washed the milk out of my hair, and as I walked to my tutor. There was no break from them. No silence, no end to this tsunami of destruction. I just had to survive the day. Tomorrow was another story.
I shoved the door to the girls open. Faces turned to me as I stomped over to the sink and slammed the tap down, sticking my head into the flow of cold water. I wasn't going to wait for it to warm up.
YOU ARE READING
No More Lies, I Promise - The Watty Awards 2011
Short Story'What would happen today then? What would they do to me today to make me feel even more worthless then they did on Friday? Same old same old.' Amy's life is torn apart by the rumors Jessica spreads. They pick on her. They hurt her. What can she do...