Chap 4

4 0 0
                                    

As soon as Leah stepped into the library, she felt comforted, even though it was a fake and useless thing to feel. She strolled through the shelves of books until she found one she liked and sat down. Unlike the book's world, where everything is magical and beautiful and happy, Leah knew her story wouldn't end that way. The clock chimed. Time to go. 

Leah shuffled off the bus and scurried quickly into the school building. As she made her way to her unadorned locker, she heard the jibes and teasing of her classmates and tried to ignore them. Normally, she wouldn't have minded. But really? Today? Leah didn't know why she expected today to be different or for someone to care. He father had already proved to her this morning that he didn't give a shit. Today was Leah's seventeenth birthday. 

Before her life had turned upside down, Leah had alway been a little bit different. She preferred real food over salads or low carb snacks. She enjoyed reading and school more than photography and make up. Leah didn't have any social media accounts either. But her little bit of quirkiness had never hurt her before. If anything, it increased her popularity. And at the very least, someone would have said a simple, "Happy birthday!" But here, no one cared enough to ask when her birthday was. Some of her worst tormentors didn't even know her real name. But still, they jeered at her and mocked her. Even the damn teachers joined in. That made Leah angry. Really? The teachers and parents are supposed to be the people who can stop these things. Obviously, she couldn't talk to her fucking father. If anything, he would help them too, even encourage these damn people to screw with her a little more, push her a little farther. She expected more from her teachers but didn't really blame them. Most days they left her alone because she got excellent grades and didn't disrupt their classes, even though she was a bit different. 

Leah wasn't like the other sixteen - well, now seventeen - year olds. She wasn't the stereotype beach blond, blue eyed bitch who hated everyone and whose breath smelt like friggin lilacs. She was just the school's unpopular freak, always singing and writing in her worn journal. Those were two of her hobbies that hadn't faded after her mother and El died. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i apologize for the awful ending

~Caitlin

JumpWhere stories live. Discover now