Girl meets ships

Smarkle- What's the point of taking over a world without you in it

*fair warning, this chapter includes thoughts of suicide*

Isadora Smackle was depressed, she knew, her parents knew, even get teachers knew, though not one of them really cared as long as her grades stayed as they should.

Isadora Smackle was depressed, and everybody knew, everybody that was, except Farkle Minkus.

Isadora slammed her locker with a bang, feeling a great sum of relief, it was Friday, finally, after a week full of the uncontrollable stress that usually accompanies exams.

She was 16 now and the work load was awful. Every single day there was some new form of stress or anxiety knocking on her door.

She felt a pair arms snake around her waist.

"Hey Izzy." Farkle murmured, kissing her neck.

"Hi Farkle." She sighed, leaning into him.

He was the only thing that made her feel even slightly happy now.

"How was class?" He whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

"Boring." Smackle replied lamely.

She felt him tense beside her. "What's wrong Iz?" He asked carefully, moving to stand in front of her.

She put on a smile. "Nothing is wrong." She said softly, placing a hand on either side of his face and kissing him softly.

He laughed against her lips. "No distracting me."

"I'm not distracting you." She joked, pushing the thick frame of her glasses back onto her face.

She kissed him again before he could object. "I have to go." She said looking down at the blank screen of her phone.

"Mom texted me, I have to go." She lied , turning on her heel and walking out the front door.

Her Mom wasn't there, her mom never picked her up from school, so with a mournful sigh, she took off down the street, feeling the cold air nip at her heels as she walked.

She arrived home, hopped into the elevator and hit the button before zooming up toward the penthouse.

Personally, this was her favourite part of any day. Watching the world grow smaller and smaller out of the glass elevator somehow made her feel bigger.

She opened the door of her apartment with a keycard and walked inside, unlacing her shoes and placing them on her allowed place on the shoe holder.

Her mother, was what you might have called obsessed, obsessed with order, obsessed with cleanliness and obsessed with the success of her one and only daughter.

"Isadora! Is that you?!" Smackle heard her mother call from the kitchen.

"Yeah it's me mom." She grunted, walking directly to her room and hearing it shut with a satisfying bang.

Smackle sighed, letting her eyes wander to the huge pile of assignments, stacked on her desk.

She had barely anything in this room. Single bed, white sheets, white walls, cold medal desk, practically a hospital room.

Her mother and father believed in high class yet "conservative" living.

They didn't want Isadora being "distracted" by money and power.