Betrayed

Harm

I watched as the little red dots sped down the crevice of my arm before falling to the wood tiled floor like blood rain. Which I suppose it was, in a way. I sucked in a deep breath as I ran the pocket knife over my arm again. No to deep to kill but deep enough to draw blood. I ran the knife across my arm a few more times before wiping it and the counter top down. As if I had never been there. I then took some of my brothers alcohol and poured it over my cuts. I screamed into my mouth shutting my thin lips tight. I relished the pain. Reminding me that no one was invincible. And if I didn't do it to myself my siblings would do it for me. I tugged on a long sleeved shirt before falling into my daily routine, wake up, shower, dress, walk to school. I don't eat breakfast, my sister says it is a waste of food.

So I simply tug on a red long sleeve and dark wash jeans, and ratty sneakers before slinging my backpack over my right shoulder, wincing from the pain in my wrist. But I suck it up as usual. Emotions should not be spent on a useless waste of space such as myself. I quickly get breakfast ready for my family. If you could call them that. Before rushing out the door like the wind. My siblings do not want to lay eyes on me either because they remember they're related to me or that they have to live with 'that'. My nickname it seems. It is probably the latter.

I walk down the worn path to school were my torture would ensue full force. Either mental or physical. I have no friends, not anymore. Not since they showed me what I really was. I got out before it could kill me. At least, I hope I did. I catch the eye of my number one tormenter. Miss Channel Pierce, my ex-bestfriend. Emphasis on the ex part. Making out with my ex-boyfriend, Jace Carter. I used to be an 'IT' girl as they say. Till I got hit in the face with reality. I want to expose them for who they really are. But that would be signing my death warrant. Not that I haven't already but still.

I keep my head down as I walk through the bustling hallway. Avoiding confrontation at all cost. It seems that the fates are not on my side today as I crash into a wall. A moving breathing wall it seems. The wall prefers to go by Tyler though. Tyler O'Hare. He was a close friend of mine. Again emphasis on the was part. I watch as he kicks my stuff around scattering the pieces of paper. I am prepared however because I always print extra in case this were ever to happen. I snap out of my day dream quickly as I see Channel and Jace cross toward me arm in arm. A cruel smirk plastered on each their faces.

"It seems the hobbit has come out of her hole." Channel says. As I internally snort, hobbit seriously. Yet I hold my tongue knowing that I would only make it worse.

"Why are you still here hobbit." Jace asks. Going along with his girlfriends nickname. I hold the urge to snicker. Still siting on the ground. As I quickly scramble to collect all my fallen articles. Spread across the hallway. I shove them all in my binder quickly pushing myself to my feet. Watching the crowd that formed around us like vultures hungry for gossip. They part for me as I rush toward my next class hoping this whatever it was is over.

"Oh what is that?" Asks an annoying voice. To be identified as Channel. I look to what she is pointing at, it seems to be a picture that I drew. One of a beautiful oak tree with a girl sitting in it. Unidentifiable because of the hair covering her face. I quicken my pace toward it. But Tyler beats me to it. Picking it up and passing it to Jace. Who looks it over nodding before tearing it apart. Each piece he rips is like another tear in my heart. Yet I refuse to cry having already spent to many tears on the subject. I watch as Channel let out a high squeal-apparently it is suppose to be laughter but one can never be sure-as she watches Jace rip the painting to pieces. Looking at my face for any emotion at all.

The only thing I let slip is

"You have to pick it up you know." I say as I walk down the hallway to my locker covered in gum and spraypaint. The students going back to what ever they were doing before that friendly little chat. And Jace, Tyler, and Channel still standing there shock written across their features. I walk to my next class thirty minutes early. watching as Mrs.Heart bustles around the room. Looking up momentarily to greet me before going back to what she was doing.

"How many this time deary?" She asks a usual occurrence asking to treat my wounds.

"Five." I answer speaking of the cruelly slashed scars across my wrist.

This is a usual occurrence. Which saddens me. But this is my life now. No matter how much I hate I still cling to the one thing that keeps me bound to this earth. A word that I haven't used in forever.

Hope.