Clear Lake Academy holds the worst of the worst delinquents from around the country. Each and every student there holds a notorious background that led them there and almost everyone avoids them.
After setting the tenth building on fire, which just...
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Water flowed from the tap, dripping onto the metal base and causing a hollow sound to echo in my head. The wind howled like a warning, outside as I stared mindlessly outside the window and at the greenery.
Will lived near the countryside, amongst the greenest of green in a beautiful one floored home that had a garden filled with golden sunlight and flower beds. The house gave a rustic wooden feel as he showed the boys around earlier.
They got along great.
I loved his home. It was fresh breather, away from the mansion back home that made me feel like the walls were caving in and my head was trapped in a cage of worthless money and stone slabs.
Reveal my desired secret, at the ball through a speech.
I took a deep breath. I was stuck in a bubble and I couldn't find any way out of its thick layer that separated me from the rest of the world. I mindlessly stared out the window, allowing the water to flow over my hands freely.
That's when the hotness finally hit me and I jerked my hand away after holding it beneath the hot water for minutes. I yelled, instantly cradling my wet hand to my chest as I fumbled for the cold tap. As soon as it was on, I placed my hand beneath it, allowing the icy water to glide over the burn and cool my skin down.
I mindlessly held the side of my hand to the water, once again lost in the bubble I was trapped in.
The boys were somewhere in the house, doing god knows what.
We had been here for only a few hours and already my mind flew to the people who were only an hour or so away. No matter how hard I tried, I always reached the same topic.
That phone call with my father.
His voice was full of rage, burning me hotter than any water could. The roughness startled me- making me feel as if I had made a mistake, as if were my fault. Either way, it was. Whoever was doing this, was trying to get back at me and I had dragged the others with me just by being friends with them.
Thoughts of my younger self came to mind.
The first experience I had with my father's change of attitude to me was when I had turned five.
It was a normal day where I was getting ready for school. I wore a usual pin frock with Mary Janes and my hair in plaited pigtails beside my studded ears. A ruby headband sat on the top of my head as I ventured down the hallway of the large mansion I called a home.
A smile was etched on my face as I headed for the door at the end- father's office.
I politely knocked, stepping in. Father sat on his leather office chair, his feet plastered on the old carpet as he sat looking at papers. His hair was gelled back and he wore a light grey suit with a matching tie.
