🥀~Bittersweet Tragedy~🥀

Chapter 1

~Warning: mention of abuse and depression~

7:00am
*BEEP**BEEP**BEEP**BEEP*
"NO!!!"
*throws alarm clock across the room—silence.*

"Please..don't remind me..not today." Sigh.
As the silence continued to get louder and louder in my head I tried to muster the little strength I had to get myself up to face the dreaded day that is waiting before me. Now sitting up and wiping away the embarrassing drool line going down the side of my mouth I manage to get a glimpse of my calendar hanging over my study desk in front of me. And there I see in big black bold writing...Friday. But not just any Friday. Past me was so kind enough to leave a little note, a reminder on how this day is so much more different from all the other Friday's I've had. "Prom Night".

"Great..." I said, annoyed at the thought, rolling my eyes. I yawned away the tiredness I still had and dragged myself across my room. Passing through scattered books on herbology, washed and unwashed clothes. I headed towards my dresser, turned on my speaker and played "Death of a Bachelor" by Panic! at the Disco.

I started scavenging for an outfit in my closet for school and since today already feels like shit, I might as well join the dark side and dress accordingly. Having a perfect outfit in mind I grabbed my favorite black knitted crop top, black tube top, ripped jeans, some white fishnets, my white Dr. Martens and started changing. To top it all off I added a couple of accessories to compliment the look. After looking at myself through the mirror on my closet door, I headed towards the bathroom and got started on brushing my teeth and hair. Of course midway through getting my hair done, I checked the time, and noticed I only had 10 min left since school starts at 8:30am and it's a 5 min walk from my house. I quickly finished my hair and got all my stuff needed for school. As I was grabbing my headphones and turning off my speaker, I headed towards my nightstand and grabbed my rose eyepatch. "Can't leave without this..." I said dolefully, tying it around my head making sure it's set in place and left the comfort of my room.

Passing by the living room I look over and see a very drunk Claire sleeping on the couch with the news playing in the background and honestly I don't feel bad or have sympathy for the woman before me. She can rot on that couch for all I care. You would think after the death of my parents your own auntie would take you in and care for you. Nope, not my aunt Claire. She can't stand the sight of me,  says that I remind her of my father's death. How she knew my father's biggest mistake was falling for my mother and having me. So beatings became the norm because of it. Of course, she only aims in places that she knows no one will be able to see unless I willingly show the art she has created. She doesn't even acknowledge me by my name either, instead calls me a 'mut'. Which is why leaving her the way she is right now doesn't really make me feel bad.
"See ya, bitch." I whispered under my breath and smiled for the first time today while heading to the second most miserable place on earth, school.