The sun shines brightly against the dark clouds. The clouds are moving ever closer to covering the setting sun. Sighing, I pick up my bags off the park bench and start my 10 minute walk home. It was late in the evening, I loved to stay at the park until dark, at the park no one criticized me. I sling my bag over my shoulder, wishing I had more time to finish my drawing. I wouldn't call myself an artist but I wouldn't say that I wasn't talented either. Drawing is the only thing that can take my mind away from the arguing.
Approaching my brick apartment building, I climb the dirty concrete steps to the door. I insert my key into the lock and push open the door. The familiar moldy smell washes over me as I close the door. The parlor is deserted, except for the scuttling of cockroaches. No one new checks in here unless they're poor or stupid. I climb the steps to the second floor and find door number 15.
I prepare myself as I push open the door and close it behind me. My mother is sitting on a dirty brown recliner, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. I guess my father went to the local bar again. My mother looks up at me and a disgusted look appears on her face, like she ate raw lemons.
"Where the hell were you?" She stands up, wobbling slightly. She walks over to me and glares at me until I answer. "I was at the park, momma." I say loud enough for her to hear. She pulls my bag away from me and dumps all my sketching books and pencils on the ground. "This shit again, Sasha? I told you, I don't have the money to waste on your dumb drawing tools. You need to be more productive and get a job! I wear myself down to feed your ungrateful ass, and you waste money on this!" She gestures at my drawings and pencils. "I'm getting rid of it!" She yells at me. She picks all of it up and tosses it into the fireplace, the flames lick and tear away my stuff. I don't cry because I know she will do worse if I cry.
"I'm sorry momma, I won't do it again." I whimper, clutching my grey bag against my chest. She turns back towards me and comes towards me until she is in my face. "Damn right!" She raises her hand and slaps me across the face. I don't make a sound, only cringe, or else she'll just do it again. She nods approvingly. "Now, go to your room, no dinner for you tonight." My mother walks back to her recliner and sits down. She picks up her beer, downs it, and gets another.
I hold back tears as I walk down the hallway to my room. I open my door and close it behind me. My room is about the size of 4 tiny bathroom stalls. A small twin sized bed is pushed against the wall, a white nightstand next to it. I have a normal sized blue dresser that contains all the clothes I own. I also have a wicker chest under my bed that has all my drawings inside.
I toss my bag on top of the blue dresser and lay on my bed, tears finally falling. Sobs consume my being, all my pent up emotions wash away as I cry. After what seems like hours, I wipe away the tears with my shirt and put my face in my hands.
Why couldn't I have a normal life? Why couldn't I have loving parents? Why am I even alive if no one wants me?
I shake my head and set my jaw, determined not to cry again. I know why I am alive, it's because I have a role to play, God put me here for a reason, now I have to find out what it is.
The next morning, I stretch my arms above my head and look at the digital clock on my nightstand. The clock read, 7:15. I yawn as I stand up, my back popping in the process. I walk over to my dresser and pull out my skinny jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. I quickly put on my outfit, putting on my beat up converse last. I leave my room and walk into the bathroom.
I look in the mirror and admire myself. I've stopped caring what people thought about me a long time ago. I know I'm beautiful. I have long, curly brown hair. Having luxurious curves are a plus too. I have a beautiful complexion, full lips, and dark sapphire eyes. Even though I'm bullied, I don't let it bother me because I know I'm beautiful. I quickly run a brush through my Shoulder length hair, after finishing washing my face.
Walking out of the bathroom, I head back into my room, grabbing my bag. I walk into the living room and cringe. Thump, thump, thump. The sounds were coming from my parents' bedroom. I guess they made up again. I shake my head before leaving the apartment and soon after, the building.
I walk to school every day, unless it rains. I ride the bus when it rains. My parents never bought me a car even though I'm 17, and I have my permit.
Arriving at school, I head to my locker, stuffing my books into my bag before heading to 1st hour class, Science. The door to the science room is open so I walk in. Some students look up at me from their conversations, I ignore them and take a seat in the back. The teacher arrives soon after and smiles at the class. The teacher is a man in his late twenties. He's wearing a casual teacher suit. He is growing a, roughly, 3 month old beard. His hair is black and so is his beard. His eyes twinkle an emerald green from under his blue-rimmed glasses. He says that his name is Mr. Lupine.
"Okay class, can anyone tell me what the building blocks of life are?" He asks with a grin, as if knowing that someone will know something others don't.
No one raised their hand or said anything. "It's cells." I mutter quietly. Mr. Lupine's head snapped up at me and he smiles. "Could you say that louder, Miss. Lockart?" I look up at him surprised. How had he heard me? But, I recover quickly. "The building blocks of life are cells, Mr. Lupine." Mr. Lupine nods his head approvingly. "Good job, Sasha." He scribbles down the word cells on the board before talking about the structures of cells for the rest of the hour.
The bell rings and Mr. Lupine dismisses class. "Sasha, could you stay a minute?" Mr. Lupine asks before I walk out. I give a bid and walk over to his desk. "You excel at science, Sasha. I need you to help me with a student." I nod to tell him to continue. "I need you to tutor a boy named Trevor Black. He has been failing science ever since 10th grade. I need to to tutor him after school on the work I'll give you for him." I think it over for a second before nodding. Why not? I could make a friend and help another kid in need. "Great, oh, here he is now." Mr, Lupine says as he looks at the door.
My jaw drops. Trevor is a handsome guy with light green eyes. He has short, dark brown hair, stubble on his chin, and chiseled features. Not to mention that you can notice his muscles bulging through his white shirt.
I would remember those eyes anywhere, the eyes that made my years at high school a living hell. I remember those eyes from all the times he hit me, called me names, he didn't do anything to help me when he let his friends hit me. The guy I'm tutoring is my bully.
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The woman above is Sasha. :)
YOU ARE READING
What Happens In The Woods
Adventure17 year old, Sasha Lockart has always had a rough life. Her parents abused her and she is bullied at school. But what happens when she finds out she has to tutor her bully? When she finds out that her bully has a deep dark secret, will she hide or w...
