Broken

Chapter 3

I sat in my first class, English, taking out my mass of notes and the book we have been reading "private peaceful."

It was an easy task for me, the book would have been like a children's book to a first year in any other school. But the class was full of air heads and guys that were just plain stupid.

"We will be continuing our discussion on Private Peaceful, oh and take notes," Mr swan sighed so unenthusiastically.

I swallowed a huge lump in my throat, preparing myself to write the date I was dreading all day. The fifteenth of October 2013. It was my least favourite day of the year... the anniversary. I knew I should be happy, but inside I felt guilty, scared. They were gone locked away and they deserved it.

Mr swan went on about war and a whole load of other stuff that my brain just couldn't process on a day like this. My stomach was churning, eyes brimmed with unwanted tears. I promised my self not to cry, they weren't worth it. I shook my head and sucked it up, it was time to move on with my life.

* * * *

The day seemed to drag slowly forward. Every second felt like a minute, every minute felt like an hour. I was drifting off through maths, jumping as the seriously disturbing bell rang straight through me. I can't cope with such little sleep. I grabbed my bag, ran to my locker, quickly got changed and sprinted out the door. Starbucks was just down the road but I couldn't afford to be late. My polo shirt collar chafed and irritated my skin. It was the only designer item I owned. My neighbour, Maggie, bought it for my 15th birthday, noticing how I stared in awe at other girls. She looked after me but it's not what I wanted. I didn't want pitty or money or designer clothes, I just wanted to be loved for me, just for being myself. It's all I've ever wanted.

I stumbled through the employee's entrance round the back, gasping for breath as I held onto my knees for balance. My legs were shaking, trying to pull my disgusting work clothes on in private. I threw my polo shirt in one of the lockers, feeling restricted in my skinny jeans. I scrapped my hair into a ponytail, a staff rule to avoid hair falling into lates or overpowering expressos. My workmate, Dawna, sighed and rolled her eyes as I flopped over the work counter.

"God what a sight," she tutted.

"Couldn't...give...a..-"

"Expresso sir?" she asked as a regular customer approached the counter, cutting me off just in time.

I straightened up, embarrassed by my sloppiness. The snooty middle-aged guy looked down his nose at me, making me feel uncomfortable. He walked away, Dawna slapping my arm.

" Here," she said, handing me an expresso too to waken myself up.

I screwed my face up but downed it anyway.

"Uck!" I cried," that's disgusting!"

"That's gonna get us a whole load of business," she moaned.

More customers came and gone,me and Dawna rushed off our feet.

I wiped my forehead, feeling flushed and hot from passing piping coffes.

"Those tables are needing cleared," she puffed, pointing over towards the window.

I felt seriously stressed and flustered, dying to scream or break something.

"Ill do it," I offered as an excuse to get a cool breeze from outside.

I walked over with a tray and cloth to clean and tidy them, very slowly.

I turned quickly to pick up the anti-bacterial spray...

"Shit I am so sorry," a tall guy said looking down at my sodden chest...