Stereotypes

five.

Authors Note~
Hey guys, I was sitting in my bed this morning thinking that I should really update this book, but then that little voice in my head (you know, that annoying one authors have?) reminded me I started the story without having an ending. So right then and there, I came up with an ending and decided to use that ending after many chapters (so no, I'm not going to straight up end the book on you after only four chapters.)
Just a little story.
By the way, excuse my German from the last word in the last chapter.

Elle's POV
So yes, Sean was in this class. He already knew too much about me, so he really didn't need the fact that I was basically stupid in school.

"Miss Elle Povelie?" A voice called all the way from the front of the room. Clearly, it was my teacher.
"Could you please take of your hat while in class? I'm afraid we have a strict no hats or hoods policy in this classroom."

As I moved my hand up to my head to take off my green beanie, I hesitated. If I took this off, then every one would see the bruises on the back of my neck. It almost feels like a part of my soul would be bared to the world. On the other hand, I really didn't want to stick out or stand out, because then the teacher would send me to the principals office, and then he would call ny dad, and he would have to come in, and that would just reflect badly upon me later.

So I took off the hat. No one cares enough to look at me. All they would really see is my long, red hair, that was parted to the side.

When I did this, when I took off my beanie, it felt like I just realized how much people had broken me. I was like a jagged glass shard. Rough around the edges, and kinda sharp. But that wasn't it's fault. We'd both been taken from something beautiful. Human beings, real,live, growing and changing organisms, had taken something beautiful and broken it. The only difference between me and the jagged glass shard, was that it came from a mirror, an honest to God, truly beautiful thing. It could be lying and hard and hurtful, or it could be honest and nice and kind. The only thing is, I was just a plain human being.

I was weak and soulless to begin with. I wasn't beautiful now or to start with.

My mother had just died. What was I supposed to look like at that part in my life?

Now, even almost a year later, my life still sucks.

Sure, I've done some great things for others. Last year, I started a fund for women's Breast Cancer. We did an 18 mile walk, six miles each day for three days. We raised almost $40,000. My mother died from breast cancer when I was 15.

My mother and I were never close. Actually, she was kind of a bitch. But she was the only one who would stand up against my dad. And I loved her.

I still have a fund for breast cancer, and we raise a lot of money. The people who run it (me included) all get together at a coffee shop once a month, to talk about new strategies.

I also volunteer at the Good Salvation Soup Kitchen on weekends and I am a candy striper every Thursday.

I guess I just want to help people. I don't ever want anyone else to be in my situation, because no one deserves anyone tearing them down.

I am so busy fiddling with the sleeve of my Black Veil Bride long sleeve, I almost didn't realize the bell had rung.

I pull on my forest green beanie over my cherry red hair and attempt to make my way out the door before Sean can catch me.

Unfortunately, because I was not blessed with the gracefulness my mother was, the tip of my black high top Converse gets caught on the door, causing me to drop my books. I stare at them on the ground, and I think about leaving them for a second. I sigh, realizing that leaving them will just cause a lot of problem a I don't necessarily need right now. I bend down to pick them up, but someone is already there and has picked them all up and put them in a nice stack.
I glance up from my spot on the ground and come into contact with a pair of familiar,beautiful, concerned blue eyes.

Sean.

Well, shit.

"We need to talk about what happened earlier," he said with a look of pity on his face. I hate pity.

"Not in the mood to talk right now," I told Sean.
I swiftly walked past him into the linoleum floored hallway.

The hallways were almost full. We still four minutes of passing time, so I guess I could swiftly lose him.
I disappeared into the crowd, heading in the direction of my next class, ducking behind tall and muscled jocks, zigging and zagging throughout the hall, and crouching down low so he couldn't spot my unmistakable beanie.

I was small and fast, 109 pounds packed into 5 feet and 3 inches.

But Sean had an advantage. He was probably anywhere from 190 ponds to 220, but not because he's fat, because he's a jock. Six foot two and a crew cut makes him kind of intimidating, so naturally the hallways sorta cleared for him.

"Elle!" He shouted through the halls. Damn, he was loud. Whispering suddenly, shot throughout the halls, everyone wondering who Elle was and why the hot new guy wanted her.

Soon everyone went back to whatever they were doing, leaving me to Sean.

He walked up close to me, our bodies pressing together in the middle of the hallway. Suddenly it seemed like every one else faded out, and we weren't in the hallway, the school, or even the earth. It felt like we were in this third universe that no one but us had access to, and I loved it. No one had ever made me feel this way. Which is why it had to stop.
Because I know he probably didn't feel the same way.
He looked down and I looked up, our noses almost touching. To anyone else it would have looked like we were about to kiss. And he was probably thinking about it, because I know I was.

I cleared my throat and stepped back. He looked at me strangely. Then he cleared his throat.

"You are mutilating yourself. You need help, because cutting is not the answer," be told me.

At this, I laughed out loud, because he had it all wrong.

I walked up to him and whispered in his ear.
"You think I did this to myself? Heads up, Sean. I didn't. My father did."

Realizing I just revealed my biggest secret to an almost virtual stranger, I stepped away.
He had a look of pure concern on his face.

As I walked away, my books hanging by my side in my right hand, I turned around to look at him in the crowded hallway to find that his eyes were still following me. Only for me to find out that what replaced the look of concern in his face was a look of anger.
I held my hands out to my sides in a 'what are you gonna do?' look and shrugged my shoulders.

After that, I turned around to go to my next class.