Faults, Scars, and Guitar Strings

Chapter 2

Note: Short chapter. Fair warning to anybody who has read the other story, this does have a lot of the same elements so the chapters may seem like they are the same, but there are A LOT of changes coming to Kayla Dane's story and I am very excited to be sharing it! :D 

Chapter 2

I walked out the doors of the school, bag in hand, avoiding all eye contact and pulling out the pieces of paper which were now stuck in my hair. I knew it was a mistake to grow my hair out. I knew it was a mistake to brush my hair at all. The students obviously didn't notice and they wouldn't care even if I did. Like I said, I need to stop putting in so much effort anyway. Not only were there pieces of paper in my hair from classes, but there were also crumbs and food stuck in my hair from lunch. After getting out of the music room I decided to head to the cafeteria to sit down and read. I tried to escape to the corner but they still saw me. They always saw me. They're like my personal stalkers. I had to put my hood over my head and pray they would leave me alone. That was another stupid decision by me.

They immediately began throwing their leftover food at me. The leader, Zane, started it along with his girlfriend Bethany. I don't know for sure if they are dating, but they act like it. They sure do deserve each other. "Why do you always wear that stupid hoodie?" Bethany asked.

Zane laughed, "We all know what's under there anyway! There's no point in hiding it."

After that I left the lunchroom. Lucky for me they weren't finished eating yet so they did not follow. I grabbed a brush from my bag and started brushing my hair before getting back to my car. I threw my bag in the passenger seat and I closed the door before walking over to my side and driving away. School had become such a bore. I don't know why I try anymore. Completely pathetic to think when I'm only in the 10th grade. I wish I had graduated already. Then I wouldn't have to deal with those pathetic losers I call my classmates. If I had graduated already I could have moved far away from there. Better yet, I wouldn't be on this earth at all.

I pulled out of the parking lot and drove home. Bethany and Zane both passed me on the way and acted like they were going to back into me. I pulled in the driveway and ran up to my room with no sign of my mom anywhere. This would usually be the time where I would go into the bathroom but I pulled out my phone and turned on Lolita Scarlett's album I bought it earlier and hit play. It had a cool beat and sounded like the other music that I listened to. I plugged my phone into my stereo and turned the volume up. I put my bag on my desk, started putting all my books on my desk, and threw my bag on the floor. What am I doing? I'm not doing my homework. I don't need an education for where I'm going.

I walked in the bathroom and slowly closed and locked the door behind me, Stay Strong now blaring in the background. I took my hoodie off and put the towel on my lap before taking out the razor. I slowly lowered it to my wrist, tears already forming, but I hesitated. No, I told myself, I'm pathetic I have to do this. I let the razor rest against my skin, but I hesitated again. I lowered down to the floor and put my head against the wall. I never hesitate. Why would I hesitate? Against the other wall hung the only picture in the bathroom; another guitar. A picture of a guitar hung in every major room in the house. Not only because David is a musician, but because it was the only comfort I found in my house. I sat back and listened to the lyrics coming from my stereo:

I could tell you it's easy to take advice,
falling over with nowhere to hide
but I'd be lying because you're more than alive.
You deserve to be on this ride.

Ups and downs
and falling over.
You deserve to feel,
everything you have.

Higher than the clouds
and into the sky.
You deserve to be alive.
You deserve to feel this ride.

Stay strong
through all of the world.
Don't be there
to watch them fall.

Don't be there
to hear the negativity.
Don't be there
to keep falling down.

You're stronger
than that.
You deserve everything.

The ups and downs
and falling over.
You deserve to feel
everything you have.

So stay strong
through all of the hurt
and don't be there
to watch yourself fall.

With tears streaming down my face, I dropped the razor onto the tile floor. I couldn't do it. My guilt finally got the best of me and I couldn't cut myself. The regret doesn't come until after I cut so I don't know why it's happening now. I tried to flashback to all the bad stuff that they said to me today, but Lolita's lyrics were playing through my head. I should have just turned my stereo off before I came in here. I broke from my routine by putting on her music, and this was the way I would pay for it.

"I'm so stupid," I muttered to myself. "Why hesitate now? I deserve this. I need to be punished."

I sat on the bathroom floor for over a half an hour letting Lolita's music sink in. I finally put the razor back in my pocket and put my hoodie back on. I walked out of the bathroom and her song Rising Up was playing. I pulled out my laptop and sat on my bed.

"Who is this chick anyway?" I muttered to myself, "She sounds pretty high and mighty. It sounds exactly like somebody in the public eye. Her and David have a lot in common."

The first thing I did was go on Google and type in Lolita Scarlett. I saw multiple reviews for her album, and I read all of them. I even found articles talking about her treatment. I stopped at the first one and clicked on it. My eyes got big as I realized why I couldn't cut earlier. Lolita went to rehab for cutting and depression. Why was this happening to me? This was who I was?! I was supposed to be the disappointment child and David was supposed to be the successful one, but my gut feeling told me to search further; that same feeling that kept telling how bad it was to starve myself and continuously cut my wrists. It has never been this strong before. I've never had enough control to listen to that voice before. Suddenly I do. I need to know who Lolita is. There has to be more to her story than just rehab.

I searched longer and found her twitter page and some articles. I read everything, word for word, not missing a thing. She was trying to help girls like me. Now it makes sense why she's coming to my school; she's on a mission to help stop bullying. I scoffed; she's in for a big surprise when she realizes it's impossible. If Mrs. Kate can't control the bullies at our school I don't know why Lolita thinks she can.

"Kayla!" I heard my mom yell.

"Room!" I yelled back still reading the article. My eyes were glued to the screen when my mom came in.

"Kayla, dinner's ready," she said.

"Whatever," I mumbled. Maybe she will leave the room so I can continue reading about Lolita. Sometimes she simply tells me dinner is ready and doesn't wait for me to go down there and eat. On days like that I don't have to come down at all. She never notices. I love those days.

"Kayla!" she yelled back.

"Fine, I'm coming," I replied. Dammit.

"Now!" she said.

I jumped off my bed leaving my laptop open, bumped past my mom and headed down the stairs towards the kitchen. I don't know why she continues to make dinner for everybody. We all know dad's not going to come out. By now he's probably already had a couple six packs of beer down, and I'm not going to eat her food anyway. She's in denial about everything. I walked down to the kitchen and was relieved when she didn't follow me. I can still get away with this. Watch this.

"What was that about anyway?" I asked myself. "She never forces meet to eat dinner."

I made up a plate of the lasagna she made, but immediately cut into it and threw half of it away. This way, when she comes downstairs, it will look like I actually ate something. I sat at the table with a fork in my hand waiting for mom to return. It took a few minutes, but I heard her come down the stairs and acted like I was eating. She started walking in the kitchen and I immediately stood up and threw the rest of the lasagna away. Fooled her again. Now she will never know. She questioned me about it, but I quickly mumbled an excuse and continued walking away. To her it will look as if I was hungry and ate the lasagna as fast as I possibly could. I went back up the stairs to my room and continued researching Lolita Scarlett. I need to find out more about this girl.