Bittersweet Redemption (ON HOLD)

Spaghetti Hair Mask

The above photo is of India at age 15...

INDIA

Red Light...

Amber Light...

Green Light...

I press my loafer clad foot flat against the accelerator, my small car bursts down the congested highway at full speed. This fine morning I slept through my alarm and I only had approximately 10 minutes to get ready for school, so here I am now weaving through the traffic with my knotted hair gathered into a messy bun, a piece of toast embedded in my brown locks due to my brothers throwing arm. I still have my pyjama top on which is a light pink cotton number with embellished flowers on the front and I teamed this fashion 'statement' with a pair of jeans that still had the stains from when I was forced to babysit the Devil twins, Charlie and Tom. I even have odd socks on, scratch that I only was able to slip one sock on today, This day is going to be great!

The radio is blasting Beyonce and I can't help but sing along, the guy in the adjacent vehicle is giving me an incredulous look. My glasses have gradually slipped down the bridge of my nose, ultimately distracting me from the crowded road. My right hand leaves the wheel so I can readjust my glasses, but I swerve to the right narrowly missing a huge semi trailer. There is a chorus of horns before I get my car back on a straight path. This day could not get any worse!

I zoom into the school parking lot yanking the hand brake. I practically jump out of the car before running to the boot to grab my bag, I sling the fraying strap over my shoulder before sprinting for the entry. I step in a big, pink glob of pre-chewed gum, I lift my foot up the gum stretching with it, it looks like one of those pizzas in movies with the stringy mozzarella. "S.hit" I screech whilst scraping my foot against the lamented floor, Its not working! I frantically search through my bag for my wallet. Once I find it, I fish out my credit card to use as a scraper. I catch a glimpse of the time on my wrist and I scream, I'm 15 minutes late! I just chuck everything into my bag, not even worrying about the gum that is still stuck to my credit card.

I sprint and launch myself at the door to my AP History class but the door opens before I make contact and Instead of colliding with cold metal, I smash into a warm chest before falling to the floor. "Watch where your going, you inconsiderate cow!" A deep voice yells, My blue eyes raise to connect with two furious brown ones, James Lancer. My books are scattered at his feet, instead of being a gentlemen and helping me pick up my belongings, he kicks them before stepping on my splayed fingers, I scream out in pain, tears threatening to spill from my already puffy eyes. I guess chivalry really is dead.

James takes one look over his shoulder at my crumbled form and just laughs before strutting down the corridor. This is a daily occurrence for me, not once have I had day at school where I wasn't either physically or mentally tormented by the other students in my year. He is a member of the school yard gang I like to call The Varsity. The Varsity are a group of genetically blessed males who roam the school corridors looking for their next shag, the first to give in to their flirts and winks are The Plastics, beautiful fake bitches, also known as easy lays. These two groups combined have made it their personal mission in life to torment and abuse me both physically and mentally.

I collect my thoughts and slowly heave myself off the scuffed floor. I dust off my jeans with one hand whilst I inspect the other one, well its not the worst I've received, once Sally Knowles punched me in the eye resulting in a huge bruise and a broken cheekbone, thats werewolf strength for you. I couldn't fight back because I was weak, in fact I haven't till this day shifted, my wolf is still locked away making me an embarrassment to my immediate family and the whole pack. I hesitantly push on the classroom door, wary of anymore exiting students. As soon as I enter all eyes are one me, "Ahh Miss Hunter... nice of you to join us" Mrs Jones soft but strict voice fills my ears, my eyes snap to hers. I hear sporadic sniggers behind my back, "Why are you late? Its not like an extra 15 minutes will make you any less of an embarrassment" I hear Stacey Lions bitchy voice, and everyone else in the class joins in with her witch cackle. I quickly apologise to the teacher before shuffling to my desk at the back of the class.