The Gift of Nothing | ✓

My Life

Chapter One | My Life

Today was Saturday. That was all I could honestly process. I didn't even know how I remembered what day it was. Usually, I spent the majority of my time trapped in my tiny blue room, drowning myself with music, writing, or reading any book that was appealing.

Writing and reading were two things that I intensely cared for. They're the only things that had a point, that actually had a reason. Thinking about it, life was unexpecting, but writing or reading already had a character's life planned out. That was the dominant reason as to why I did those two things.

And then sometimes, it helped me feel better. Because even after a while, I started to break. It all started way before the girl who sat next to me, way before I could speak proper sentences with big words. But I wasn't damaged. Never was, never will be. Trust me on that.

It really started when I was just a child, around the age of seven, maybe older. I didn't exactly have one of those cliché story lines. My dad wasn't a drug addict, nor was my mom an alcoholic.

It was my brother.

My brother was older than me by two years. Everything started when he was around the age of nine, when he was in the fourth grade. The fourth grade. His name was Theodore. He hated that name so much, that he forced my parents and me to call him Theo. Well, for someone as sweet and nice as him, he got constantly bullied. Why must bad things happen to good people? He never told me why he got bullied once we grew older and more mature. I later found out, around the age of fourteen. The people who drove him into depression and eventually to committing suicide gave me the answers Theo never did.

At the time, it didn't badly affect him. Though, anyone with common sense knew that it would get much worse. Theo would come home with a frown on his face every single day. My parents were probably brushing off the situation, not even noticing how fake Theo's smile was. Like I said, I was observant.

The truth? I'm mostly like this because my brother was my best friend. I spent every living moment with him, and his changes influenced me into changing as well. Then, there was that one year. On March 17, 2010, when I was nearly fourteen, Theo committed suicide.

I was incapable to shed tears for him. I was numb, the actual pain didn't hit me right away. Theo, my brother, my best friend, the person who absolutely ruined my life did this to me.

That was why I didn't care about the bruised girl who sat next to me. I didn't care about anything at all. Those years that passed until today made me angry and upset. Nobody had second thoughts about me, I was emotionless, empty, dangerous. Nobody made their way to care about me, not even the exception of my parents.

Life, no matter how cruel it could be, was funny. Always was, always will be.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The dreaded Monday came by quicker than I had intended it to. I was planning to ditch school like every other day. And like every other day, I couldn't skip. I swear, it was the most tempting feeling someone could get. Nowadays, school wasn't something that I really cared for, but I stayed for one reason. My parents. It was the least I could do for them after everything they had been through.

Ever since 2010, my parents and I never really got along. They became too strict and too protective. But I'm glad that happened rather than my parents becoming intoxicated everyday. Their strictness became their automatic response. I don't blame them; my own reaction was more or less worse. For them, I wanted - needed - to be the best daughter I could. Sometimes, no matter how much I did or didn't try, it just never worked out. My parents happiness was my number one priority, but I wouldn't be able to accomplish it if they kept shutting me out and vice versa.

Though, Monday meant another day of deafening silence and wary stares. At school, I was categorized as the smart and quiet one. Categorized by the teachers, that is. To everyone else, I was the rude know-it-all. They were attacking me indirectly; they called me names but could never say it to my face. It just didn't make sense. But there was something I did understand, something so simple and straightforward. It's hard to please society these days.

~*~*~*~*~*~

I silently seethed, my favorite pen tightly gripped in my hand. I just wanted these two girls to do me a favor and shut up. They kept arguing about unimportant stuff, back and forth, back and forth. They seriously needed to stop before I snapped my pen.

My hand slammed down on my desk, fast and loud, instantly making the bickering girls to jump. They looked at me in horror, realizing that they made me angry. It was hard to get me angry, but when I did, it wasn't pretty. Even quiet people had to snap once in a while.

"Will you just shut up?" My voice was low and full of fire. Me, the girl who rarely talked to anyone about anything, just spoke out of sever annoyance. Bravo. Give the girls' a trophy, I'm truly amazed. I internally snorted; my thoughts are even dripping of sarcasm.

In this current situation, I was at school, in English to be more specific. It was the last class of the day, and I just wanted to get out with some peace and quiet. But obviously, my wishes weren't going to come true anytime soon. My grip on my pen didn't loosen up the slightest bit. I glared at the girls for a few seconds before letting my penetrating gaze land on my notebook. I swear, you could hear a pin drop because of the dead silence.

I gathered my supplies and walked out of the classroom. The stares from everyone became too intense and claustrophobia started to kick in. My teacher, Mrs. Walker, who wasn't in class before was quickly walking down the hallway. She was on of those attractive teachers with the perfect hair, the sexy outfit, and was always downright perfect. I don't even know why she chose to teach, for the better good, perhaps? Maybe she just needed us to promote her modeling agency or something.

"Miss Chancellor?" I glanced up at my English teacher, "Shouldn't you be in class?" Shouldn't you be teaching right now?

"Yeah," I causally threw at her, jabbing my thumb towards the direction I came from, "I just left."

"Are you looking for the detention room?" I wasn't an idiot; I knew what she was implying at.

"Sure, why not?"

Mrs. Walker looked bewildered. I wouldn't lie: I was shocked. Everyone knew that I didn't really care whether or not I got detention, suspension, or expulsion. But then again, a little part of me would be terrified. She shook her head in disappointment and I felt my stomach stir.

"Then I better see you in detention after class." I nodded, wiping my hands on my jeans and turning to go back to the classroom. I guess my guilt wanted me to care for once. So, I entered the classroom with my head held high and my dignity still intact, ignoring the snickers and chuckles that were yet to come.

It was just another part of my life.