Chim - Every Mark On My Body

Chapter 1

Chapter One

I’m sitting in class, English literature. Period 6, with me bag slung over me neck and resting in me lap the way it always was during the last lesson of the day. I’m there, but only in body. I sit, impatiently tap, tap, tapping me pen on the desk in a constant beat that only I seem to understand. One that seems to mirror the thumping pulse in me head. It arouses annoyed glares amongst me classmates, but I don’t care. I’m oblivious, lost in me own little world, mind swirling with a whirlpool of endless thoughts that bring greater pain the deeper they sink. I glance at the clock. 10 minutes. I check me pocket; crunch the crisp £50 note in me fist, careful not to let anyone see. I’m wrenched from me thoughts by the sound of me latest assignment being dropped onto the desk in front of us, like the clean strike of skin against skin.                                               

‘A* Cheryl, well done.’

I grunt my acknowledgement of the bug eyed teacher before us; her glasses thicker than her spare tyre.

'Its alright for you, you've got it easy.'

I scoff at the sheer ignorance of the girl sitting beside us.

'My life is far from easy.' I think to meself. Normally, I’d ignore these types of comments. They usually came from idiot guys who didn’t have two brain cells to rub together. But no, this girl was intelligent. I lean over to look at her paper. ‘A’. Why was she complaining? I look up at her. Me breath was momentarily taken from us as I notice for the first time how beautiful she is. Kimberley, I think her name is. Wow. But then I remember what I’m annoyed at.

‘How exactly do I 'have it easy’ then? And why you complaining when you got an A?'

‘I may have got an A, but I study every subject for 2 hours each, every night. I have to do a whole load of extra research on most things because I don’t understand them. I have to work hard for a good grade. And then there’s you. You just sit there in lessons, mind God knows where, not paying a single piece of attention. And then we get given an assignment question and you produce an A* piece of work with a flick of your pen. It’s unfair. You’re lucky. I wish I was like you.’

I watch her for a while, noticing how a sweet little crease had appeared in between her eyebrows as she got more and more frustrated. I think about what she said. It was true, I suppose. I was able to grasp things quickly. But I wasn’t lucky. I’d give anything to be able to spend hours revising subjects. As it was I barely had time to do my assignments.

'You're right, I do pick things up easily. It just comes natural to us. And that might be something you want, but you wouldn't want to be us. Believe us when I say I'm not lucky. You don't want to be us. Nobody would.'

'What do you mea-'

She was cut short by the voice of our still looming teacher. 'Cheryl?'

I look up at her. She is studying us with a look that makes us shift unconfortably in me seat. Her large eyes flit over me face, and then fix at a point just below me right eye, me cheekbone, drinking it in.

Oh God, she's seen it.

I tug the sleeves of me cardigan further down over me wrists, suddenly very aware of what she's thinking. I make a mental note to buy a darker coloured foundation.

'Cheryl, I'd like to see you after the lesson please.'

sh!t. There is a somewhat concerned and comforting tone to her voice, but it fails to fill us with reassurance. In fact, it drains all me adrenalin and replaces it with a thick, suffocating dread. He was normally an evil genius at work, but he hadn't been so careful.

And now I was going to be late.

'Pack up guys.' Upon hearing this, I start to plan me new escape route. Eyes dart towards the shrinking door - working out a way to mill into the crowd, like usual. Unnoticed. Uncared for. But she notices. She sees the concentration in my glistening chocolate brown pools of despair.

'Cheryl, collect the textbooks please.'

I sigh in defeat, carrrying out the task as the students around us disperse.

The bell goes. Strike One.

Adams shuts the door. Strike Two.

Only one more.

She waddles towards us.

'Are you ok?'

'Fine. Thank you. And you?'

'Cheryl. I want to know what happened to your face.' Well, at least she isn't beating around the bush.

I give me sleeves another tug, fist still tightly clenched around me lifeline.

'I er... got hit in the face with a football when I was walking past the boys. I'm fine. Honest.' Lie.

'And did you go to first aid? Get some ice?'

'Yep.' Lie.

'It's rather badly bruised for something that got iced straight away...'

'Oh I didn't go until the end of lunch because I thought it was alright but it started hurting then.' Lie. Lie. Lie. All lies.

I'm getting pretty good at it though. Talking me way out of a sticky situation. Hiding the things that I didn't have the guts to tell, despite the raging fire that burned inside us: urging us to.

'What's in your hand?' Snap. Back to reality.

'What?'

'Your hand - open your fist.' Crap.

'I...no.'

'Cheryl, do it. You're only going to make me more suspicious.'

'Yeah? And what are you going to do you fat sh!t? Sit on me? Or eat me? You gonna finish me like a cheesecake?'

'I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, because something tells me you're pretty eager to get out of here? I'm rather enjoying our little chat though, aren't you?' Damn. Manipulative *Female Dog*.

Begrudginly, I curl open me fingers, the blood rushing back to me paper-white knuckles, me delicate fingers opening like a blossoming flower to reveal the dirty fruit within.

'Why are you carrying around so much money?'

'I..erm.. have to buy groceries.' Lie.

'Right, listen. I don't believe you've said a truthful word to me since this conversation started,' Correct. 'but it's your right to tell me as much or as little as you like. I just want you to be aware that you can tell me anything you need to, in confidence too. Anything you're concerned, scared or worried about - I'm always here.'

I was oh so tempted. I could've taken the easy option right then. Broken into the millions of fragile pieces I was made up of right in front of her. But I had worked too hard carefully fitting them back together after the last time. The last time I let someone in. Me porcelain heart couldn't take another smashing. Me unstable mental state couldn't take another wobble. This time it might just fall. Topple over enough to send us crashing into a black hole of twisted, tar-like darkness.

'I'm fine. Thanks.'

So I lie. Again. Like always. Nothing new. 'Can I go now?'

'I suppose so. Just remember what I said.'

I nod my head vaguely at her as I pull the door open hard, and an off balance Kimberley topples into me arms.

'Oh god I'm sorry! I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear! I was just worried about you, what you said before-'

I didn't give her a chance to finish. I had already pushed her off us, and I'm at the end of the corridor before she starts to raise her  voice, shouting me name after us. I fix me bag properly over me shoulders and break into a run.

Long, dark hair whipping widly around my face, I'm sure I look like a descendant of Medusa as I crash through the wrought iron gates of my prison.

The prison that, ironically, is the only place I feel safe.