Nadine's Stuck.

ONE

[TW (TRIGGER WARNING): SELF HARM!!]

Nadine's POV:

I Sob. I'm so sick. Sick of everything. I need it stop. I need the world to stop just for momment so I can catch up.

I can't help but reach for that stupid razor blade that I took out of a stupid little sharpener. There's a little monster in my wrist, scratching to get out. I need to help it out. I need to cut it out. Cut it all out.

The blade slides across my wrist. A little red line appears. It doesn't bleed to bad. Of course it doesn't--I'd never cut too deep. I don't think I want to die, I just don't want to live. I cry myself to sleep.

. . .

The next morning, I wake up to my mom shacking me awake. "Nadine, wake up!" My eyes flutter open.

"Mhmm..." I groan and sit up as I rub my eyes. My mom, seeing that I'm awake, walks out the room.

When she leaves, I pull my sleeve up. I stare at the new cut. It hurts. Of course it does, dumbass. You're cutting yourself. Cutting yourself like a little idiot, too scared to ask for help. What would mom say if she found out? Why? I don't fucking know why.

[End of TW]

My mind scolds itself as I walk over to my closet and grab my school uniform. I throw it on, brush my teeth, and throw my brown hair into a two nice pigtails. I leave without breakfast.

. . .

At school, I sit in science class. The desks are split into groups of four. I guess that's good. My friend group is of four people--three, really.

Charlotte walks over with Misha. "Hi, Nadia." Charlotte greets me as she sits down next to me. I nod back, acknowledging them both. Honestly, if I didn't know better I'd think Misha and Charlotte were dating, but Misha's gay. That's good though. He won't say or do anything weird to me...not like...God, I hate boys.

Xena comes over and sits down next us. Xena is very pretty. Slim with long, dark hair, and tall. I wish I looked like her. She's perfect.

Misha, Charlotte, and Xena wonder off into a conversation. I space out. I never really feel like I'm their friend. More like a girl they hang out with because they feel bad for her. How many times has she cried in school this year? Let's see:
Math: Twice.
Gym: Five.
Science: Eight (stupid project-based class).
English: Four.
French: Six.
Art: Zero. (Thank God.)
That gives us a total of....twenty-five! Let's give Nadine the biggest round of applause for being the biggest cry baby known to man! Woo! We all hate you, Nadia!

"Alright, class, I have a very important announcement today." Mrs. Lavoy announces to the class. A few groan, assuming it's something negative. Mrs. Lavoy ignores them. "The school has started a new...program. As you may or may not know, the school has been building a dormitory, which is why the third floor was strictly forbidden up until now. Unfortunately, there are not as many dorms as students, so students will be paired together."

A few students look at their friends, excitedly.

"Now, now, before you make assumptions, you will not be pairing with your friends."

Groans echo through the classroom and Mrs. Lavoy rolls her eyes. I don't groan, but I'm not a fan of the idea. Being stuck with a complete stranger? What if I get stuck with...him. No way. No thanks. I hope I get my own dorm room.

"Me and the other staff have discussed amongst each other and decided on a few...troubled freshman who will be paired with seniors. I--"

"You mean the poor, stupid ones?" A jock interrupts, mockingly.

"No, Xavier. I mean students who need a bit of extra help like yourself." The class giggles and his friends tease him.

"I will read out the names that have been chosen."

Please not me. God, please not me.

Mrs. Lavoy names off names for a few minutes, luckily my name is not called yet, and hopefully not ever. A few students roll their eyes when their name get called, others exchange excited looks with their friends, excited to meet a cool senior.

"And last but not least...Nadine."
It feels like the whole class turns at looks at me, but in reality it's just a few. A few beady little eyes starring into my soul before turning back to their friends. It takes me a moment to even comprehend what Mrs. Lavoy said.

Fuck.

. . .

Word count: 774!