Control Z // Season 1

2. FRESH MEAT

02.
[FRESH MEAT]

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"YOU HAVE PROBLEMS with your teachers, with your classmates, with keeping good grades..." the principle reads from the little report card, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

I roll my eyes. I've been called into Quintanilla's office for no other reason than to receive this very unfair special treatment.

He's not up anyone else's asses about this shit, so why is he up mine just because he's fucking my mother?

Maybe he wants me to be perfect, because he thinks then Nora will give him more attention than she gives me.

While talking, he frustratedly waves his square red glasses around in his hand. The same red fucking glasses which I found on her nightstand.

"Yeah, well at least I'm not failing." I retort, shifting the position of my legs uncomfortably on the plastic chair. His eyes snap up in disbelief at my disrespect.

Respect is earned, not entitled.

Yet he is very much entitled to the name prick.

"No, but you take your exams and don't finish," He presses further, and I actually laugh this time.

"I get bored." I tell him simply, picking at the skin on my hand.

"Sofia," he scowls, leaning forward on his desk and places his glasses down. "You answered just enough questions to get a C."

I nod, wondering how I could get myself out of this without causing an argument. An idea strikes me.

"Well, Quintanilla, in sports I'm doing pretty well." I smirk secretly. If only he knew.

He raises his eyebrows and consults his folder to check if I'm right, and to his delight I am. Relief washes over his face.

"Ah, yes. You have an A-plus. Well this means so much to your mom." His eyes linger on the paper incredulously.

"It's very important that you adapt and be comfortable. I swear I'm trying to understand. I know this has been hard for you - losing your father must be especially painful..."

My smiles fades and my eyes fall to the floor. I try to swallow but my throat is suddenly too dry.

My heart pounds in my chest as he speaks those words, the words that brings back all the memories I am trying so hard to keep out.

I remember hearing the sirens blazing in the distance, growing nearer, so loud and frightening to a child. My lungs infected with smoke as I watched my childhood home burn to the ground.

I remember being encapsulated at the ash floating through the air and landing gracefully on the ground.

Ash is the devil's form of snowflakes.

The events of last year had sent me into a mental breakdown. Everyone heard about me, the crazy girl who was sent to the luny bin after she couldn't emotionally handle the loss of her father, a loss that happened ages before her breakdown.

I remember the people were so confused, but doctors said it was down to the loss finally breaking through my denial.

If only they knew what really happened.

Whenever I think of him, it brings back the memories of myself.

Sat in a wheelchair, staring numbly out of the window, the sun gently radiating down on my ghostly pale skin, my left arm wrapped in gauze from self-inflicted wounds.