Rise

Chapter 2

I have a long walk. Plus, Harry doesn't care enough to drag me back into the car.

Besides, those girls are better entertainment than I am.

I don't exactly know the way home but I could make it somewhere near.

If i don't get jumped first, that is.

The air smells of the ocean.

I hate the ocean.

I live in Georgia, the only reason I'm hundreds, thousands of miles away from my 'loving' parents in Minnesota is because it was either "go to college with a FULL scholarship in Georigia or stay at home and pay for it yourself."

I'm not rich so I went with option one.

Swiping the thoughts away i trudge through the leaves, mud, sticks, rain.

Rain.

I expect it to sprinkle a little bit and pick up slightly but no, it was like God screaming at my face,

"HEY IT'S GOING TO POUR RAIN SO MUCH AT ONCE SO I CAN TORTURE YOU."

Great, thanks.

I put my silky thin hoody up, the rain soaking it in seconds, like I had jumped into the nearest river and gotten out.

My backpack wasn't made of thick, water proof, fancy, rich white people fabric, no, it was the cheap kind of backpack you find for $10 at your local Walmart.

I can feel my backpack weighing me down, the loads of books in there getting heavier as the pages absorb the rain.

First week of school and I'm already having to pay for new text books.

I decide to do what is best, ditch the books.

I stop in my tracks, yanking the million pound backpack off of my shoulders, and onto the ground.

It is soaked in mud.

I hear screaming, the frustrated kind, only to learn the screaming is my own.

I pick up my soggy backpack up and dump the several text books out into the mud.

The only thing I need from my backpack is my copy of "A Christmas Carol" and my earphones.

I absolutely hate "A Christmas Carol."

The dialogue is horrible and I can't understand most of it, even with an advanced mind like mine.

I hate it so much I've read it about six times.

I tuck the book under my soaked jacket, it wont help as much but it's a start.

I stuff the earphones in my pocket, snug next to it's best friend; my phone.

"Oh my god Ella call someone to pick you up, you should've done this a long time ago." I mutter to myself.

I am too far from campus, too far from anything really.

Other than the Taco Bell a block from where I am.

I can walk there and get a ride from a friend.

Oh right, the friends in Minnesota you abandoned completely.

I sigh, hating just about everything at the moment.

This is literally the worst day ever, all it's done is gotten worse and worse.

I realise I am standing, not getting anywhere.

"TO TACO BELL!" I shout, making the best of a shitty situation.

I sprint towards the direction of the Taco Bell, running with my left arm straight forward, like a superhero.

I ran and ran, ignoring the heavy rain that drummed against my moving body.

After a few minutes I spot a sign, my favorite sign in the world.

"Taco Bell." It reads.

I slow down, blocking the rain with my free hand, clutching my book with the other.

I walk inside the Taco Bell, not many people, but the people that are here are soaked, just like me.

I squeeze the excess water from my sleeves, drying my hands on a napkin sitting at a vacant table.

The napkin is unused, don't worry.

I pull out my phone, hoping the rain didn't kill the battery.

The apple logo appears on the screen as my mini heart-attack disappears.

As soon as I type in my passcode I go to my contacts.

Please find someone please find someone...

I scroll through, not finding very many people to call.

I put my phone away and sit at an empty booth, thinking of what to do.

You should've gotten into the car with Harry.

I look over as a group of blonde girls, two normal looking guys, and three guys covered in tattoos walked in.

I hide myself behind my soaked cover of "A Christmas Carol." Hoping these freaks wont notice me.

I put the book down.

Why would they notice you anyways, Melanie?

I pick at a straw for awhile, thinking of a good way back to my apartment.

I refuse to live in the dorms, a bunch of scum bags and whores live there, partying, making annoying noise, trashing everything.

I don't want to be there.

My thoughts are stomped on with a big black boot.

The tattooed guy approaches me.

"You're wet?"

I look behind me, hoping he is talking to someone else.

He's not.

He smirks. "Talkin' to you babe."

It takes everything in my body not to launch myself over the table and wrap my hands around his tattoo-covered neck.

Nobody calls me 'babe.'

He doesn't look too bad appearance wise, he has blue eyes and black hair, tattoos almost everywhere.

He looks about twenty.

"You here alone?" He asks.

I try to speak, the words hiding in the back of my throat.

"You don't speak hm?"

I cough. "Sorry I-"

He waves his hand in front of me, making me stop talking.

So he wants me to talk, and then he doesn't? Gosh.

He slides into the booth, siting next to me.

Awfully close.

I scoot away.

"Sorry I uh have to get going."

I move to the end of the booth, about to slip my legs out as he grabs my arm.

"I can give you a ride back to your place, since you obviously don't have a ride now." He smiles.

I yank my arm away.

I look up and I see his other tattooed friend walk over, siting on the side of the booth i am on.

This should turn out great.