Chapter 9

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This chapter is dedicated to Alex Lambright. He was an amazing musician who played all kinds of instruments. He helped my best friend's music talent shine and made two music albums for the band Voices of Silence. I only talked to him on Facebook a few times, and I never got to meet him. He was such a nice guy and he will be missed. He was vacationing in Mexico when he was killed by a drunk driver on Wednesday, April13th. RIP, Alex, and thank you so much for everything you have done for my friend. You really made the world a brighter place with your music. You will be missed and never forgotten.

Now that I’m all done with my weird blurb about how I am a creeper who loves complete strangers… (haha) I am just going to say that I don’t want to be stuck with writing about every single class and every single little thing that happens to Esther every day, so I am going to write one, maybe two or three of the important things that happen each day.

Tuesday (after classes, approximately 5 PM)

    “Yes. These two fingers are broken I’m afraid,” said the doctor. He gestured to my middle and ring fingers on my left hand. “But your index finger is fine. As long as you don’t slam it in a door or something it is in no danger of being broken.”

    I groaned, leaning back in my chair with my hand on my forehead. “Well.. how long will it take for my fingers to heal?”

    “I am going to realign the broken fragments, then put them in splints. If you are careful, your fingers should be healed in about six to seven weeks.”

    I groaned again.

~*~

    8:30 PM - Warning. This next segment will be a little graphic.

    I walked down down the path towards the Sea Mist dorm section, the metal of my splints cool and slightly soothing against my middle and ring fingers. The full moon lit the campus and the white gravel/sand path under my feet. A gentle breeze ruffled the leaves of the trees sprinkled throughout the lawns, but it was otherwise quiet. I didn’t like it. As I passed the dorm house that had been used for the party last night (probably belonging to one of the leading members of The Clique), I noticed that it was dark, quiet, and empty looking. Something definitely wasn’t right. I walked a little faster, deciding right away, that even if I really didn’t want to or like it, I would skip my evening run and wait until morning.

    I saw my dorm, not 40 feet away. I walked even faster, my heart racing. As I got closer and closer, I broke into a pretty fast jog, my dark blue back pack bouncing on my back. If anyone were to look out their window and see me, I probably would have looked like an idiot.

    I stopped outside my front door, breathing hard, and slipped my backpack off my shoulder. I pulled my iPod out of my bag and put in my earbuds.

    “Hmph!” I puffed.

    Gosh, that probably made me look stupid. I’m thinking like an idiot! Why am I so jumpy? There really is nothing to worry about! I thought, forcing myself to slow down my breathing. I sat on the step, breathing in the chilly night air through my nose, the instrumental band Voices of Silence in my ears. I tilted my head back and looked at the moon and stars shining, creating a peaceful air around me. After a few minutes I stood, turning around to open my door so I could try and spend another night with no food.

    I had eaten some lunch at a nearby Wendy’s earlier in the day, but really, is fast food really that filling?

    I paused a moment, looked around, and opened my door. Grabbing my bag loosely with my right hand I started to walk in, when I felt the collar of my shirt pull back against my throat.

    “Ugh! blagh!” I choked.

    I was yanked roughly off the step, and I would have fallen if it five fingers hadn’t curled around my neck, four fingers pressing hard against my throat “Going somewhere, creep queen?” said the voice of it’s owner.

    I choked some more, struggling hard, frantically slamming my feet on the ground, trying to step on the foot of the person choking me. There was laughter from all sides.

    Damn it! Agh! Must breath! I need air! NOW! LET ME GO!

    I started seeing stars. I blinked hard, my eyes bulging in their sockets.

    Please let me go… LET ME GO! LET ME GO NOW!

    I desperately clawed at the girl’s fingers. My face was probably starting to turn blue.

    “Okay, hun, let her go, she’s had enough.” said a second voice.

    The girl who had spoken let me go and I dropped like a stone.

    I gasped hard, gulping down air like a fish out of water and massaging my neck.

    “GET UP!” yelled the second voice again.

    “W-Wha..?” I huffed.

    “GET UP!” yelled voice two again.

    “She said GET UP!” said voice number one from behind me. Two hands grabbed my upper arms and pulled me up. I blinked hard a few times, standing there like a fool. Once my vision was clear, I tried to make out faces in the dark. I couldn’t. The single street light by my dorm had gone out.

    Damn it!

    WHAM! A hard blow in my cheek made me fly backwards into someone, who in turn pushed me back into the center of the circle.

    “Ew! Get off!” said voice number one.

    A third voice spoke up from my left.

    “I wonder if she will still look beautiful without those nasty curls.”

    NO! I wanted to scream, protest, defend myself from this treatment. But I felt numb. I couldn’t move.

    More laughter from everyone. “Yeah!” a couple voices called. My eyes widened in fear and I was shoved from behind, landing flat on my face. The wind was instantly knocked out of me.

    “Ooof!”

    Some stepped on my back and kneeled down.   

    “Come on! Quickly” said voice number one from above me. I flailed my arms, trying to get the girl off.

    “Oh no you don’t, precious!” spat girl number two, pinning my hands down. I cried out as one of the hand clamped down on my broken fingers.

    Someone grabbed my hair, wrenching my head back.

    “AGH!”

    I heard a snipping noise, then some release on the left side on my head.

    “No…” I half sobbed. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes. “Please, no…” I said, even more weakly.

    For a few minutes the scissors wove through my hair. Then, with one final snip, my head slammed on the ground. My nose and forehead flew forward, slamming into the concrete. I felt it break. Blood poured onto the walkway amongst hair clippings, but most of the remains of my beautiful, sleek black curls, the only truly beautiful part of me, covered my back. I sobbed some more, a small amount of warm, metallic blood entering my mouth.

    Suddenly, I was smashed in the back of the head with something hard, a plank of wood, or maybe a soft piece of pipe. I knew no more.

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