Finding 4

Chapter 3

Marley

"Come on Mar," my dad's voice wakes me up. "Time for school."

"No," I groan, rolling over to my stomach.

"Yeah," he flicks my light on. "You can't be late on the first day."

I sigh deeply, bringing my pillow over the back of my head.

School.

The best place on Earth. Because being locked up in a building for seven hours is the most enjoyable thing to ever exist.

"Come on Marley," I feel my covers get pulled off of me. "You gotta get up."

"I'm getting up," I groan, twisting in the bed.

"Mhm," he hums and his footsteps retreat away from my bed. The door clicks shut and once again I roll over to my back.

After a few minutes of just laying there, I toss my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. Picking up my school uniform, I sigh.

I've never worn a school uniform. I've always just thrown on whatever I felt like that day. Maybe it'll make it easier in the mornings now that I don't have to choose.

I turn on the shower, strip out of my pajamas, and step under the hot water. My mind goes blank as the water rushes over me, and drips down against the porcelain tub.

I drop my arms down and the water runs down my arms. As soon as it stings against my wrists, I wince, bringing them back to my chest.

For a moment I just stand there, holding onto my wrists, the realization of what I'm doing to myself hitting harder than a truck.

But I can't stop.

It's the only thing that helps.

It keeps my mind silent.

Eventually I get out of the shower and brush my teeth. I put on my uniform, with the stupid skirt and the stupid blue sweater.

"Hey Mar, you ready?" Brody pokes his head into my room, all dressed up in his Tommen uniform.

I nod and manage to whisper out a "yeah," still looking at myself in the mirror.

He nods and walks away from my room. I listen to his footsteps down the stairs and when I know he's far enough away I walk over to my jewelry stand. I pick up my mom's gold watch, and slide it on one wrist, and then I grab my usual jewelry stack and slide those on the other.

When I know for a fact that the scars and fresh cuts are covered, I slip on my shoes and grab my backpack, and then make my way downstairs.

<>

"Holy shit," Brody says looking up at the school. "This is so much nicer than school at home."

I scoff in awe "Yeah."

Back in America, they just plaster a bunch of bricks together, slap a sign on the wall, and call it a day. Not here though. The school is huge, it has at least six buildings, and all types of architecture built into it, not just a plain brick or concrete wall.

"Well," Brody claps his hands. "Let's go."

He starts to walk towards the front doors, but I stay put. I can't move. I can't make myself walk into that building.

I've never been the new kid.

I've always had the same friends, and seen the same people. I've always known where to go in my school. Not here.

I don't know any of these people, and I don't know my way to my classes.

God I wish Mom were-

"Hi!" A feminine Irish accent sounds from next to me, dragging me out of my thoughts.