The school's pasty green walls and fake granite floors are as uninviting as ever. The whitewash lockers are just as graffitied and beat up as they were the day before. Students converse in groups, couples make out every couple of lockers. Other girls, have theirs decorated with pictues of their boyfriends and mirrors, makeup and travel sized perfume bottles litter the tiny shelves. Mine's rather plain, no frill or pink. Just filled with text books, and a few notebooks and like 2 pencils. I grab my chemistry binder and a dulled down pencil, and start weaving my way through the vast gaggle of students. The chemistry room smells like sodium chloride and rubbing alcohol. It makes my nose burn, I rub my eyes. A jock bumps into me "Watch it!" he snarls.
I pull my books closer to my chest and cradle them, my arm itches, a girl boops her boyfriend's nose giggling "No you stop it silly" I sit down in the back of the room, where I can avoid all unwanted and unnecessary attention, Mr. White walks into the room, the door shutting behind him. He starts writing in big cursive letters what the day's objective is. I chew on my bottom lip, Xander is late. Mr. White starts droning on about chemical compositions and the lot. Xander barges in breathing heavily, face flustered. I giggle, he sheepishly puts his late pass on Mr. White's desk and walks over next to me.
"Allie" he whispers. I shoot him a glare, I'm trying to pay attention. "Allie" he whispers again. I reward him with an elbow to the side. He gives me a glare. "Mr. Dufront, do you have something you need to ask the class?" Mr. White questions, Xander's face flushes bright red - it's funny to watch. I direct my attention to my notebook and start working on a sketch I've been in the process of creating. It's a tiger club, it keeps me busy. The rest of the day is mostly a blur as classes begin and finish, Algebra, Spanish, Literature, Art, Drama and Home ec.
Some people might think that the city is beautiful. To me, it's just a city, where I grew up. Xander usually keeps me company on our walk to work and today is no different. "Allie! Allie! Wait up!" Xander runs up, his glasses sliding down his face.
"Hey Xan"
"You okay?" he smiles "I heard your parents shouting again last night.." he trails off
"Yeah. Nothing new"
"I know that Allie. But that doesn't mean that it gets any easier with time."
I shrug. "I haven't really been thinking too much of it. I was working on my portfolio last night." His face scrunches up, he kicks a pebble. "You know it's not healthy - pushing all of this off to the side." I shrug again, my arms itching, I resist the urge to scratch. Xander thinks I've stopped self harming.
Walking into our job, a small diner- I see someone I think I recognize. I freeze hearing the voice, "Yes. Thank you. That's all." He turns around and it is unmistakably who I thought it was. I turn and run out of the diner- I don't stop running until I get home- a good 5 miles away. Past my mom and the worn out chair- she shouts something drunkenly at me, past the kitchen my parents fought in all the time, past my grandmother's room from when she was alive, up the worn out and peeling stairs that I broke my arm on. Up into my room, my safe haven. I knew today was going to suck..
1 (800) 273-8255
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
Hours: 24 hours, 7 days a week
Languages: English, Spanish
Website: www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org
If you are in need of help, call please... As the author, I've been there in this situation before, and it is horribly frightening...
Xoxo
~ Skye
YOU ARE READING
Scars
Teen FictionAllie is both like and not like your typical girl. She comes from a broken family home- and fights her battles. Most are lucky enough to have someone in their life who cares enough to take care of them. Others aren't so lucky. This is Allie's story.
