My moon, your stars

Chapter 1

I wake up to my alarm clock blaring in my right ear and with a splitting head ache.

Why did I wake up with a headache, you ask? Well, my father, Drystan, is, let's just say not the friendliest person and is extremely domineering, which makes him abusive.

So yes, that's where my headache came from, a brutally hard punch to my face.
There was most probably going to be a huge black ring around my left eye, but most people won't even notice.

Why?

Because it is a common occurrence, and all I do is either cover it with makeup if it's really bad or just say I ran into a pole or tripped down the stairs. Was it true?no, no, it was not. But my dad mostly made sure to beat me where the marks would not be seen, so basically anywhere where my clothes would cover.

Anyway, enough about that.

My name is Angel. I know weird name for a boy, but that's what my mom named me when I was born. My dad hated the name and me because he said that I was the cause of my mother's death. Was that true? No, no, it was not. My mom died when I was 3, and she died  from being beaten to death by my dad.

I had freckles across my nose and just under my eyes, which I hated. I don't know why everyone thinks their pretty.
I have light blonde hair green eyes, and I'm 5 foot 7 (176 cm)

I go to Yellow Wood Canyon High School, and I'm in 10th grade. I have 1 best friend, Liam, who has far too much energy for a 10th grader, actually just generally for a human being, but has the most amazing character ever.

School isn't too bad if you exclude the fact that there are a bunch of 11th graders roaming the school searching for ways to torture me. Weather it's with my grades, what I'm wearing that day, how my hair looked , my name my freckles etc etc.

Other than all of that, everything was just fine.

I hop out of bed and walk to the bathroom mirror.

Jeez. I'm going to have to cover this one up.

I run back to my room and stand in front of the drawers placed next to my bed, open the 3rd one, and look under the pile of long sleeve tops.

I grab the concealer and run back to the bathroom, seeing as tho I am already late for school.

I squeez the last of what is left in the tube and rub it around my eye. It was not enough. Now it looked less black and more red.

Great.

I ignore the fact that it now looks like I have an eye infection and throw some basic clothes on. A black short sleeve shirt and baggy black tracksuit pants.

I run out of the door and grab my school bag on the way. My dad leaves early for work, so thank goodness I never have to see him in the mornings.

I'm actually sprinting to school and getting there just as the bell rings.

Students flood the hallways as they rush to register.

Register. The duration of this class is only 15 minutes long, where the teacher checks who is here and who is not. Also, where most students try to rush copy undone homework.

That was never me.

The 15 minutes is now over, and the bell rings, letting everyone know it's time for the first lesson.

My first class is math. I did not necessarily like the subject but was good at it. How? I don't know.

I sit all the way at the back of the class and, since my marks are brilliant, usually just listen to music, draw, sleep, stare out of the window, etc.