We're Broken Too You Know

Chapter 1- Farkle

8th grade. That's when it started. The abuse, the bullying, and my descusting habit.

It all started when my mom died. My dad was grief struck for a while, then remarried a few months later. My new "mom" was nice to me for about 3 minutes. Then, she revealed her true colors to me and only me. The day after she and my dad got back from their honeymoon, she hit me because I hadn't done their laundry. After that, she found it "fun" to hit me, punch me, and do anything else she could do to hurt me. And I couldn't tell anyone otherwise she would do much, MUCH worse. Even I didn't fully know what she was capable of.

School started a few weeks after Dad and the step-monster got back from the honeymoon. I thought it would be an escape from all of the CRAP I had to deal with at home.

Boy, was I wrong.

The first day of school was the worst. I mean I was just starting 8th grade, so, it was supposed to be the best year if my life. I mean, the 8th graders are the kings of middle school!!! But, somehow I was still at the bottom of the social food chain. I met up with Riley, Maya, and Lucas near Mr. Matthews classroom. Maya was wearing her normal punk " you mess with me I hurt you" clothes. Lucas was wearing a flannel and some worn out jeans that were stained with grass, dirt, and who knows what else. And Riley looked...different. She was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and gray skinny jeans. This may seem like a normal outfit for a 14 year old girl, and you'd be right. But, Riley isn't normal. She is one of the brightest, funniest girls I have ever met. She is Mayor of Rileytown and she lives in her happy world of sunshine and butterflies and she always wears bright colors. Her wearing dark colors is not normal.I guess Riley wasn't the only one who looked different than last year. I was wearing a dark gray sweatshirt with black skinny jeans.

No one came up to us to say "hello" or "how was your summer" Usually at least Lucas gets popularity cred. We all had different class schedules. Ecept Riley and I. We had identical class schedules.

*********time skip to at home*******

Other than having class with Riley, school.was.horrible. So many of the other 8th graders came up to me and called me names. And at lunch, I got a swirlie.

I was sick of it. I went into my desk and took out my new pencil sharper. It had a simple black lid with a navy blue plastic coating. I opened it up. Inside was a sharp, shiny, blade.

I had a set of screwdrivers in my desk as well for the purpose of tinkering.

I took one of the smallest screwdrivers and took out the blade. I went, blade in hand, to my bathroom. I closed and locked the door.

I took off my sweatshirt and looked at myself in the mirror. "Stupid. Fat. Ugly. Worthless."

The other 8th graders words ran through my mind. What I was about to do was dangerous. Really dangerous. I didn't care.

At that point I had tears running down my face.

I looked down at my left arm. I picked up the blade and drew it to my skin.

I made a line. It hurt like hell. The pain felt good. I could actually control this pain. The line I had made was now red with blood. I made another line underneath the first one.

I continued to repeat this pattern until I had 10 bleeding lines.

On each arm.