WHICH ONE?

CHAPTER 1 - Officer, listen to me!

In the cover of the early morning hour of 5 am, me and Clora snuck into the school. This was my idea, it's just my best friend Clora was brave enough to come. Trevor and Lory, my two boy-best friends, Trevor being Cloras boyfriend, were also here with us. Trevor was in his orange Mustang awaiting for us, like a getaway driver and Lory? Lory was somewhere in the school, presumably sneaking to the Principal's office. The teachers would be arriving at the school by six so we had to be out of here by then, all four of us.

'What was I doing?', was the question that played through my head like a musical lyric on repeat. I was setting fire to a row of lockers out in the courtyard, the most public 'hangout' spot in our school. Our school, Dallas High, was terrible anyway. This was just my get back at our Principal for all the things he directed my way. Our Principal was T.E.R.R.I.B.L.E. He does things I don't even think are legal as punishments in this weird building classified as a 'high school'.

For other students, what I'm doing today is their worst nightmare, but the majority? This was a blessing. Lory was on spray paint duty, he was going to spray paint some words onto the Principles door and me and Clora were going to use a little bit of chemicals and a lighter to set the two rows of lockers on fire.

Trevors Uncle, Thomas, was a chemist in a high quality business, so he had access to a load of chemicals that can both be turned into drugs and alcohol, but I don't drink. I'm only a sixteen year old and a sophomore! I still have two years left in this shit hole. I'd rather be digging a hole.

"Over here!" Clora whispered to me as we turned right on the next corner.

We found ourselves in the courtyard, the two rows of lockers we were looking for in sight. Clora gave me a weary look before handing me everything I needed to get this fire started.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I mean you can just tell your parents what he did to you?" Clora tried to reason in a whisper voice of persuasion.

I shot her a look before answering, "Clora..." I paused thinking about what she had just said. I told my parents what he did, I did, yet they didn't believe me. To them I was some sort of mistake? To them I was their worst child that made their life difficult. The only time mami talks to me is to argue. Our arguments have increased by a lot, to the point sometimes I don't even return home and they don't even care...

I told my parents the whole story, including my dad, yet he only told me to live it down and that I should see a better therapist or a psychiatrist because I was going 'crazy'? That day I argued with him and earned a cut on my left upper-arm from him. The only person in that house that treated me with some-what respect was Keleo, my brother. He was eighteen and was sadly finishing high school this summer and was moving to a college far away from Dallas, heck it's outside of Texas! That just means I won't have a 'friend' or a companion in the house anymore. My sister Celeste? She's two minutes older than me and also my dipshit bitch of a twin. My arguments with her happen every damn day. I was the youngest- BY TWO MINUTES WITH HER!- so I got it 'tough'. The only thing I enjoyed with Celeste was that when it came to school arguments, she got things done. She was no back-downer. I tell you that, but that's also why I'm always fighting with her at home. Let's say...we don't get along well? Yeah.

The day I realised that everyone in that house except Keleo was against me was the day I told them about my incident with the Principal...
One day, I was coming out of the school's swimming pool after school in my swimming suit to be cornered by surprise. No, not by bullies, but Principle Norman, the forty-five year old Principle of our school. He took advantage of the situation but I eventually fought back, inexperienced yet quick and steady. All of this happened last week and I wash my body frequently everyday trying to get the feeling of his grimy hands off my body, yet it only stuck, like the trauma he gave me.