The 7

Chapter 1 Part 1

You know that cliché that every girl wants her life to change to be more exciting? Well, I'm the polar opposite of that girl. I want my shitty life to stay the same.  It's safe this way. I'm not testing my boundaries, I don't like being uncomfortable. Sometimes I can't control myself when I'm uncomfortable.

A week ago I received a thick manila envelope with large calligraphy on the front saying Isra Bertram, my name. Inside the envelope was an acceptance letter from Carden High School, a prestigious school on the other side of the country. They offered me a full scholarship, one that’s only offered to legacies. That's when the offer sparked my interest; I need to know more about my parents, to know if they were the ones who gave me this terrible burden.  That moment I received the envelope brings me to this moment, me trying to figure out if finding out about my parents is worth it. To go across the country, just to find information about the people who abandoned me. Looking in the mirror and seeing this jagged line across my face makes me decide that it is worth it. I pack the last of my dark t-shirts and jeans and plop on my black bed. I stare at my ceiling restlessly, and end up jumping out of the bed. I put on some chucks and climb out my window. Under my window sill was a duffel bag, I grab the duffel bag and start walking into the woods. My legs take me far enough to see the native trees with all the notches in them. I let the duffle bag slide off my shoulder, bend down to unzip it and pick up my set of knives. I place the heaviest one in my right hand and the rest on top of the duffel. I steady my breathing and set up to throw the knife, letting all the anger of not knowing my birth parents, this terrible burden they gave me, go into the knife and the throw, and I release the knife. The blade hits the tree with such force and precision I thought the tree might break for a second. I grabbed another knife and did the same thing until all my knives were gone. Only if life were as simple as throwing knives. I stride up to the tree and grab the knives out of the tree. I repeat this cycle till I'm gasping for breath and my mind is filled with thoughts of throwing knives instead of my parents. My eyes couldn’t focus on the tree anymore, so taking this as a sign of tiredness, I start packing up my knives. Grabbing the duffel bag, I begin to walk back home.

Climbing through my window, I see Maria sitting on my bed. Maria is one of the many foster moms I’ve had over time. She’s just a young woman trying to fill the void where my mom should be, but personally in my opinion the worst kind. She works so hard, and eventually you start to believe in her and then next thing you know she says that you’re too much work, you have too many problems, and then it's off to a new foster home. I can't continuously get my hopes up. I have too many problems for anyone to deal with, even myself, so I try to distance myself from Maria, but she hasn’t gotten the memo yet.

“Where were you?” She demanded.

“Chill, there’s nothing for you to worry about,” I reply nonchalantly.

Her eyes began to twitch like always when she gets aggravated with me. “No reason! It’s 3 am and you were gone,” She exclaims, her voice slightly raising; you could tell she's trying not to yell.  She really should stop caring about me, because the sooner she stops, the less of a disappointment I will be.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be gone tomorrow, and you won't have to worry about me anymore,” Her face scrunches up in confusion. I guess I forgot to tell her I'm accepting Carden’s scholarship.

“What- do you mean?” her voice started to fog up with tears.

“The Carden High School, the scholarship they offered me. I have to go, Maria. One or both of my parents went there,” 

“And you were just going to leave without discussing it with me?” tears are now streaming down her face. Now I feel lousy, I can't stand when people cry over me.