The Crimson Red

Chapter 1

[2003]

It's been a while since my mother died. A long while. 6 years and counting actually, which only makes it hurt more when I think about it.

Sophomore year would be hell, and I knew it. I mean imagine if a new girl arrived at your school, looking like both her parents were stoners and were digging their own grave. Only half of that is true actually, my dad is constantly doing lines or swallowing pills, and my mom is, you know, out of the picture.

Especially since I don't 'fit the beauty standards', I most definitely would get picked on and teased at the last. I had dark hair and eyes, and though I was fairly skinny, I was still too skinny. It took me a long time, and by that I mean a couple thousand dollars of therapy sessions and meditation to find out that your body isn't the problem.

I slid on a long-sleeve white shirt with sleeves tight but somehow still slightly long on my arms even though I had quite long arms, some jeans that flared at the bottom, and some sneakers. I brushed my hair and teeth for the day, putting on some makeup and running downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning Dad..." I  mumbled at the man who didn't respond, and instead was out cold in front of the television screen droning on about worldwide news, issues, and different media, which was probably on all night as my dad popped a few pills.

I chewed on a banana as I drove to school with my drivers license that I was very proud of, and also the one that my grandparents were less than thrilled when they heard about it, and grumbled on and on about how I was going to be one of those 'up to no good' teenagers that drank and partied and had 5 children by the age of 18.

The drive to school was a short 7 minutes some might call a preparatory break before stepping in to the chaos and mental illness that was school. Some is me. I call it that.

I stepped into my assigned homeroom in class 107, Mr Hernandez's classroom, who was also the science teacher.

I was so happy to finally see the tired faces of my peers and teachers instead of sitting in my room listening to music and being bored all summer that I didn't even notice a boy walking towards the door, and of course, I bumped into him. How fucking embarrassing...

"Shit... sorry." I say, rubbing my forehead that just a few moments ago slammed into his jaw. He was quite tall, obviously, and had platinum blonde hair which was slightly messy and kind of unorganised, though it made him look even better. He had dark brown eyes that lacked any happy emotion and were stern, though I could get lost in them for days if he let me. I felt my heart skip a few beats as I looked at him, but then he abruptly shoved past me.

"Watch where you're going dumbass." He hissed, purposefully bumping into me again and letting my books scatter around the floor.

I heard a few people snicker at me, and my teacher glanced at me but payed no mind as I stood there for a few moments, dumbfounded. How could someone so pretty be such a dick?  I thought to myself, staring at the ground and the ground only as I picked up my books as the bell rung, receiving some nasty comments that I was blocking the door by some other students.

I hurried to my second period, giving a once over of my paper with my schedule and room numbers. I had Spanish. My least favourite subject so early in the morning. As if this day couldn't shove me more deep into shit.

I shuffled into Spanish, sitting in a seat in the back next to a window. I looked around the classroom. No one that I knew. Of course, why would I know anyone here? I forgot to say that I moved, and I didn't have any friends in my old school, so I didn't know who I was looking for anyways.

The boring lesson droned on, and I already knew some Spanish and was fluent with the language, so I didn't see a point in going over it, and even if I did forget how to speak it, I don't think it would matter because I don't plan on leaving America any time soon.

I looked out the window, staring at the sky starting to darken and rain clouds coating every patch of light left. I felt contempt as the rain tapped against the windows, as if creating a soft melody that could hum a person to sleep.

I sat there for a few more moments, until my peace was broken by the teacher clearing her throat.

"Miss Woodworks, care to answer number fifteen on the board and introduce yourself to the class while you're at it?" She said crisply, tapping her foot on the tiles of the floor impatiently.

"Um... the answer is..." My eyes drift to the board, staring at it. "The answer is... C?" I say uncertainly.

"Correct. Now, you're forgetting something, yes?"

"..." I glare at her, annoyed. "My name's Mallory Woodworks, and I just moved here from Canada a month ago..." I mutter, loud enough so that she didn't have to nag me to speak up.

The bell rung and I sighed. "Bitch..." I muttered under my breath, picking up my belongings and quickly rushing to my next class.

The rest of my classes were just as boring as Spanish, and to my surprise, my favourite subject, literature, was more boring than Spanish. My teacher had an annoying voice that made me want to rip my ears out, but I didn't care, because the boy from earlier sat in the table before me.

I stared at him most of the class. His voice was smooth and rich when he answered questions,  which was completely different from his tone when he talked with me. His eyes were so much kinder when he looked at other people instead of me.

I loved him, even when he hated me.