The Marked Ones

Chapter Two: Hell

Slowly, he walks towards me without taking me off gunpoint. Then the little bastard puts the gun on my forehead. "Say goodnight" he says.
Boom!
I wake up, drenched in sweat and tears.

Shit, I think. It's another dream.

Not only am I still gasping from the horror that I just got shot (in my dreams) but I im late for school too. I look at the clock.
9:27
Should I even go to school today? I mean im already late... Oh wait, I have a test from Ms. Gooden today. I'll fail if I dont take that test.
Ugh, fine.
I take a shower and put on some skinny jeans and a t-shirt. I head downstairs. On the fridge, there's a note.

Dear Jazz,
Sorry I didn't wake you, but you're just so cute in your sleep.

That made my day sort of better, 'cause I don't really hear that sort of stuff from my family. I read the next line.

Just kidding bitch.

"Fuck all of you" I said to myself.

I made you breakfast. Eggs and bacon. Eat up piggy.
Signed, Arielle
Damn. Ive never seen a pair of twins like us be so brutal to each other. But she sure as hell knows I love her.

I walk in class. Ms. Gooden sees that im late and check her watch. "Its 9:54, Ms. Stewart. Why are you late today?" I give her my 'fuck you' face. She knows I hate being called by my last name. "Well?" She questions. I spoke without even thinking. "Someone told me to go to hell. It was hard to find at first, but now I'm here." The class laughed. Ms. Gooden, on the other hand, didn't find it quite funny. "Oh you think you're so funny, huh? Four hours detention!" Ive never met another teacher thats so intimidating. I opened my mouth to say something back, but I wasn't in a good enough mood to talk back.
Yes, I'm that depressed.
I look around for an open seat. Theres only one, and thats next to... oh no... its Brandon.
SHIT. I think to myself. Why is he here? Awkardly, I walk toward the seat and set my things down. I try not to look at him. I try not to think about his deep, caramel eyes. Most importantly, I try not to cry. I cant believe how long its beem since we broke up. Two weeks. It seems like years. Maybe its because I'm still in love with him.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interupted..." I rolled my eyes at her " these are your premanent seats." Wait what!? "Premanent?!" I scream. Ms. Gooden looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Yes. Permanent. Meaning you're never changing seats... ever." I slam my head into the desk. This could not be happening.