Breaking Free

Chapter 1

Charity! Help...please. You can't leave me like this!
Charity wakes up in a cold sweat with tears forcing to fall. She's had the same nightmare for months. She can't seem to shake the feeling of hopelessness and dread.
After Charity took her shower, she got out and changed into a pair of acid washed matchstick jeans, a soft powder, blue sweater, and a pair of hi-top Converse. For once, she is pleased with her appearance(even though, she stopped caring about how she looked after the accident). Finally, she tosses her dark black hair into a messy knot and covers up the bags beneath her eyes the best she can. Last thing she needed was for someone to ask her how she was feeling. She didn't want to lie today.
Later at school, she kept her head down and proceeded to her locker to gather her books for her first class of the day. Chemistry 1 Honors. Charity was in all honors classes and one of the top students at Greenfield High, though, that was before everything happened.
The bells rang one by one; leaving her with three bells left before she could go home. At lunch she grabbed a chocolate chip cookie, a can of soda, and a sandwich. It wasn't like she would actually finish it all. So she popped open the can and nibbled on the end of the cookie. She was so alone. She was depressed. The people she used to call her friends no longer associated with her. Everything was different. Everything was changed. And not for the good either. Only for the bad.
After the lunch bell rang she stood up and threw the remains of her lunch in the trash. She thought to herself 'Time to see how the rest of this day goes...'
Charity makes it to her final class of the day. She's made it all day without being talked to. This is a new record. She kind of wishes they'd talk to her, but then again she was glad to be left alone.
"Miss Stephens!" yells her teacher, Mr. Davis.
She groans, "Yes, sir?"
"I asked you a question. Do you know the answer?"
"No,sir, I don't. May I go see the nurse?"
"No, Miss Stephens. Now pay attention."
After a long lecture about the periodic table he assigned us two pages of homework and to study for a possible pop quiz. She was so stressed. This was tortuous! How was she supposed to do two pages of Physical Science, her foreign language, and so much more.
As she went to her locker she was tripped. Her books and notebooks scattered everywhere and papers flew chaotically into the air. Around her she heard people burst out into giggles. Tears threatened to spill over, but she blinked them back. Calmly, she straightened her stuff and gathered it into her arms.
Finally, after she safely closed her stuff in her locker, she put in her headphones and started blasting Scars to your Beautiful by Alessia Cara. While she walked home she let the tears fall. She didn't care any longer. She just wanted the pain to be over. Everything was different. Charity wished the accident had never happened. She wanted her life to go back to normal. Her friends. Her family. Her life. Everything.
When she got home, she slammed her door. Her dad was too drunk to even notice anyways. What did it matter? Charity went to her secret stash of razors that she hid in her closet.
She cried and cut. The sweet relief of a blade slicing her skin was perfect. For her it was amazing. She had only been clean for about a week. Not very long to other people, but in her eyes it was a lifetime. She was happy she was able to not let it all get inside her head. Until today, when people thought it was okay to trip her up and laugh. They were wrong. They don't know how guilty she feels. The memories and nightmares she has every night. If only they knew.
    While Charity laid on her bed, she heard a car pull up then the recognizable sound of a car door being shut. She didn't bother to go to the window to see who it was. She didn't care. Not like they were eager to check up on her. From downstairs she heard cupboards opening and closing, heels clacking, and dinner being made.
     At 6:45 on the dot, all of them were together. Tonight's dinner consisted of rotisserie chicken, crisp vegetables, and a side salad. Charity slid a little bit of the food onto her plate and slowly chewed a piece of lettuce. After today,well, she didn't have much of an appetite left. Around her,her stepdad and mother were talking to little Emmaline. They were asking her what she had learned earlier today. Em's answers were short and to the point. Emmaline was only 6 after all. She didn't know very many words--(before you get curious, Emmaline is just my stepsister. Nothing more. We don't even look alike!) Emmaline has fair skin, pale eyes, and golden hair. While Charity has wavy black hair, fair skin, and eyes that change. Our mother's eyes crinkled proudly whenever she looked at Emma. Her brilliant blue eyes sparkling. The only one in this family that was a disappointment was her. She broke their suburban perfect family. Every time she looked at her Charity could clearly see the disappointment.
That night after dinner, she changed into her pjs and slipped into her computer chair at her desk. The least she could do is start this stupid paper. Countless hours later, she could feel her eyelids getting heavy. Sighing she turned her laptop off and slid into bed. All she needed was to sleep. She just wanted to forget today. Even if it only lasted 8 hours.