The Darkest Hour

In Which Our Heroine Isn't Quite Such a Heroine After All

A day at school was always a sickening blur for Ruby. She'd spend the entire time trying to keep her head down, avoiding any eye contact with anyone and wishing away the hours. Usually, she managed to remain unnoticed, and at the most, she had to endure a bit of shoving in the hallways, her books 'accidentally' knocked to the ground, or a few snide remarks.

But today had been worse. How was she going to explain to her mother that the new watch she'd been given for her birthday was now gone, and riding proudly on Shannon Archer's wrist? She rubbed the empty spot under her sleeve, her stomach churning. It wasn't as if her parents couldn't afford another one, but it'd only confirm what they already thought- that she had no idea how to take care of herself in the real world.

It was true, though. She wouldn't last five minutes out on her own, just like that guy the other night had said. The mysterious Z. She'd watched for him every time she'd worked after that, even volunteering for another night shift at the weekend. Part of her was scared at the prospect of running into him again. After their encounter the other night, her legs had been shaking with adrenaline. He'd been rude and hurtful, and his mention of spending time in prison had made her heart skip a beat in fright.

But the reason Ruby was desperate to see him again was that she had never spoken to anyone else the way she had to him. She'd stopped being weak and mousy, had even defended herself. She wanted to experience it again.

It was why she'd begged her parents to stop homeschooling her. Every time she had an opportunity to interact with people who didn't know her, she promised herself she'd be the confident Ruby, the one she knew she could be. But it had never worked. She hadn't really realised what a freak the other kids would consider her, with her headscarf, refusal to roll up her skirt shorter, and what she now understood were awkward, old fashioned manners.

The same thing had happened at work, her manager soon realising that Ruby would do everything she asked, without ever questioning or protesting that she was doing the work of others too. Rae had run Ruby into the ground as easily as a steamroller would a soft stretch of tarmac. And now, she understood. She acted like a doormat, so that's just how people treated her, parents included.

But with that guy, she hadn't stopped to think, she'd just spoken to him. Maybe it had been because at first, she'd had a feeling of superiority over him, but that had quickly dissipated. She often found herself wondering about him, hoping he was alright and getting enough to eat, staying warm somehow. Whatever he had done, whoever he was, she shuddered to think of trying to survive a freezing winter on the streets of London.

'Hey, Scarf Girl!'

Ruby jumped, instinctively clutching her books to her chest at the all too familiar, screeching voice of Shannon Archer. The girl never bothered to use Ruby's name, and the unoriginal nickname seemed to be hilarious to the rest of her peers.

'Yes, Shannon?' She replied meekly, her insides curdling in disgust at herself. Most nights she imagined what she would say to the girl, how she'd finally stand up for herself and refuse to be ordered around. But then morning would come around, and it'd be the same as it always was.

She dropped her head, cheeks burning, as Shannon pursed her pink, glossed lips, eyeing Ruby with disdain.

'I need that essay finished tomorrow, got it?'

Ruby nodded, silently. It was already done, but Shannon didn't need to know that. The girl sniffed, haughtily, then flounced off with a flick of her fake blond extensions, her millions of tacky bracelets jangling on her skinny arms. Ruby watched as she disappeared down the corridor, her minions trailing in her wake.

She sighed. Before she'd attended school, she'd thought that people like Shannon and her friends only existed in cliched American stories. Within a few days of starting here, though, she'd realised that the books were all too true. When the bullying had started, it had taken every ounce of courage she'd possessed, and a lot of prayer, not to take off the simple scarf she wore But although she'd given up trying to explain anything to the others here, she couldn't take it off.