The Sins of Regret

Chapter 1

A young girl slammed to the ground. Blood dripping from a cut on her lip.

Standing tall above her was a brunette girl with a malevolent smile.

"Wow, Bridget, You'd think a dirty street kid like you would be better at fighting back. Aren't you from the hood?" the girl laughed. From the laugh's innocence, you could never guess the cruelty it came from.

Bridget tried to sit up but a boy with light brown hair and square glasses stepped on her chest.

Her vision went black for a moment, but she fought for consciousness, "Well, four on one isn't exactly the greatest odds for me. Lose the lackeys and then come back."

"Tsk. Tsk." The girl smacked, "That was what those of us with an education call a rhetorical question. Meaning you don't respond. Talk again and I'll have Conner break your ribs."

The pressure on her chest increased. Bridget's breathing became labored.

The girl laughed and the pressure subsided.

"Just kidding. I'm not stupid." She knelt down and grabbed Bridget's chin, "If I did any real damage administration might take you away from me."

"We wouldn't want that now would we, Brit?" Bridget grumbled.

Brittney threw Bridget's face down, "Don't say my name, you haven't earned that right. You sorry excuse for road kill."

A blonde, with long, bright, hair stepped up to Brittney's side, "I dare you to keep talking," she laughed, "It'd be so much more fun for me."

A boy with black hair stepped to Conner's side, "I hate to end the party, but we only have two minutes till class."

"Okay," Brittney nodded, "Conner... other guy, help our friend up,"

The two boys roughly grabbed under Bridget''s arms and dragged her to her feet.

"Go get yourself cleaned up," Brittney patted Bridget's head and her group walked away.

The bell for class rang so Bridget staggered to her classroom.

"You're late." a cold statement made by a short woman at the front of the class. A thick hispanic accent intertwined with her every word.

Bridget looked to the floor, "Sorry, Mrs. Cultiva."

The teacher spat, "Sorry means nothing from you. You're late, because you wanted to bother poor Brittney and Conner."

Bridget looked at the class to see Brittney with a beaming smile.

"I'm the one that got beat up," She defended.

"You provoked them. What else were they supposed to do?" The teacher explained sympathetically.

"But-"

"Mrs. Hawthorne, if you continue to be a bother I will be forced to call the principal. And I'm sure he'll have no problem alerting the authorities."

Realizing that silence was her best option, Bridget shuffled to the only remaining seat, which was up front. As the teacher began her lesson Bridget daydreamed.

She was brought back to reality by the sound of a chuckle. Then two. Soon it seemed that the whole class was holding back laughter.

Then she felt it. The light bump as something hit her head.

She reached around to find a slimey paper ball sticking to her straight black hair.

Now the class had burst into a chorus of laughter.