High On The Bad Boy

Chapter 1

Twirling a soft strand of her snow white hair between her pointer and middle fingers, she felt the familiar, burning gaze at the back of her head.

Though she didn't dare turn around to face him, because she knew, once she turned, it would be all over. She couldn't for the life of her turn around to face the blue eyed fighter. Those were the only things she knew of the boy; he was a fighter, and a vicious one at that, and his eyes were the most captivating blue/gray eyes she had ever seen.

Just a few more minutes, and then she could get out of this hell hole that he was creating. Reserved only for her to be tortured.

It was always like this, just a daily routine; get up, take a shower, eat, get ready, go to school, get bullied, take notes in class, listen to music by the huge oak tree at lunch, let a guy she doesn't even familiar herself with the name of burn a hole through the back of her head, then go home, get yelled at by the excuses of human beings that she, unfortunately, had to call her parents 'cause she's never going to be good enough like her older brother, and then tomorrow, it's the same shit all over again...

She let out a sigh of distress. The same exact question playing an awfully familiar tune in her ears, as it already feels like the show tune of her life, "When is it ever gonna really end?".

It's almost like her own brain is teasing her about her fucked-up life and imperfect self. Or maybe it was just the pot still lingering in her system from the night before.

No, it was her mind. If she could still understand what the damn teacher was telling her about the god-awful equation on the board, it was definitely her overused brain playing the same old trick on her poor self, day after day.

She hummed the tune of a cliche 50's song in her head to keep the voices at bay, she could deal with them later. When she was all alone.

But with twenty five other people sitting in the same room as her, a breakdown wouldn't be much appreciated, she guessed almost sarcastically.

*rinngg*

Thank fuck! The prison time of this day was over. She quickly put her stuff in her backpack and left the class in record time, to avoid the scorching gaze of the blue eyed fighter.

Shoulders hunched in an almost protective stand, she began her way to her reserved, her-only hell hole, that she was forced to call home.

Her earbuds in her ears, blasting some hardcore screamo song that she didn't even understand the lyrics of, she sullenly once again let out a sigh of resignation. She knew it was close, another breakdown that she would have to endure on her own. Her parents never helped her, even when they heard the screams of agony coming from her bedroom, they pretended they never heard her. Even when they saw the dark purple bags underneath her eyes, and the self-inflicted bloody scratches that decorated her face and arms, they pretended they never saw them.

What a great set of parents huh?, She thought in disdain, a frown marring her face.

Finally, almost two blocks away from her personal torture-maze, she decided, she needed some chemicals in her system in order to deal with her parents tonight. So she redirected her route to the park where all the junkies gather around to get high. She wasn't a junkie, just needed the occasional pot to help her get through the line of people that had the common hobby of torturing her, without losing her shit permanently.

She could deal with daily breakdowns as a way for her body to cope with her damaged psychology, but she couldn't afford to lose her shit for real. That would mean the slight possibility that she could get out would be out of the window with the promise of never coming back.