{𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 1}
𝒁𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑻𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒔
Is the girl no one really noticed. She hides her face- with all the horrid bruises present- behind a facade, and makes sure no one suspects a single thing about the hell she's met with at her home with her 'parents...
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My period ended yesterday. Just on time, because if I had it today, I probably would've locked myself up in my room and cried.
I hate having my period again, and I know it's a good thing but does it really has to cause such pain?
That, and the fact that, if I had it today, I would have to spend my 1st day in a high-school in New York with terrible cramps.
I woke up this morning 2 hours before I was planning to. I slep a total of 4 hours this night, but hey, atleast I've showered and blow dried my hair right?
I groan, and try prying open my eyes a bit more to rightly apply the mascara I have between my thumb and index finger. My tongue is slightly sticking out of my mouth in concentration because it would be really unfortunate if I poked my eye out on the 1st day in my new school.
Eleandro told me the school is a private school. It's accessible only for filthy rich kids– or their parents atleast– or for daughters or son's of diplomatics or other important people.
I'm neither, but apparently my brothers are. I can understand that if everyone knows about the whole fact of them being in the mafia and shit. Although I'm not sure they tell it all around. That probably wouldn't be the best idea ever.
But they rich, so I guess that's the reason I'm in anyway.
At first, when Eleandro told me about this, I laughed at him in his face. I seriously thought he was joking. That is, until I saw the uniform I'm supposed to wear. It could be worse I guess. Atleast I don't look like a sack of potatoes like I've seen some school uniforms be like.
The school uniform exists out of a white blouse, a navy kilted skirt with a matching navy blazer, and navy knee socks. I feel like a princess from barbies princess academy in these clothes, but I'm not complaining.
My hair is up into two high ponytails, and I curled the ends with a curling iron– which I'm never doing again because I'm clearly not a professional with it, almost burning my hair off.
Once I'm done giving some volume to my lashes with the mascara, I quickly apply a light pink and natural blush, and a dot of highlighter on my nose, blending it in with my ring finger.
I hurry out of my room, noticing it's almost 8 already while I have to leave at 8:15 and still need to eat breakfast.
Once I'm skipping of the stairs, I quickly check my phone. I am not allowed to post any confidential information on social media, because it could be dangerous, but I do post photos of my breakfast sometimes, and people seem to like it because I've gained 300 followers in the time I installed Instagram on my phone.
I walk into the kitchen, still focused on my phone, when Lucas jumps at my back, almost severely injuring my neck.
"Lucas! Ow!" I yell shaking him off of me, wincing when I feel his nail had scratched my neck.
