The young Meif'wa Grace got bullied by almost everyone. Her family had to move because they (her classmates) almost killed her. They moved to a new town, and she now goes to Phoenix Drop High School. Will Grace still be bullied, and lose her life fo...
I jumped at the sound of my 8th period teacher popping into the room out of absolutely nowhere. "I'm Mrs. Zoey, and your teacher for this term. As you all can see, there's only 2 of you in this class." She said, stating the obvious. I turned to see a girl with amber blonde-ish hair standing a little bit away from me. I turn in her direction, and smile. She looked a bit scared and shy, but she smiled back. "Hi! I'm Grace, it's nice to meet you." I tell her. I extended my hand for her to shake. "Lilac, pleasure." She responded, shaking my hand. She seemed like a bit of an outcast, someone you would see in an Occult Club if there was one. We turned back to Mrs. Zoey, waiting for some sort of direction on what to do for the rest of the period. "Since you probably know how to control your powers, we will focus on water magiks first term, wind magiks second term, earth magics third, and fire fourth. Does either of you know who founded wind magiks?" Mrs. Zoey asked the two of us. Lilac raised her hands, her purple fingernails reflecting the sunlight shining through the windows to the left of us. "Lilac?" Mrs. Zoey called. "Enki the Keeper." She responded. "Very good! Now Grace, who is Enki the Keeper?" "Enki the Keeper was the God of intelligence, creation, and water. Enki developed feelings for Lady Irene during the time he spent with her. He was a scholar, and considered the Keeper of Knowledge." I told Mrs. Zoey. "Correct!" Mrs. Zoey said, and this went on for a while.
~~ Time skip brought to you by Angel With a Shotgun by: The Cab~~
I unlocked the front door to my house, and it was empty. I took a few steps, and slipped on an open and empty wine bottle. I had to cautiously step around empty wine and beer bottles, and made my way to the staircase to the upstairs. I opened my bedroom door, and went into my closet. Deciding what to wear, I decided to grab something casual, and head out to maybe meet someone new maybe. (Outfit Above) I closed my closet, and put my hair into a messy bun. I stepped out of my bedroom, and stepped on a beer bottle. A piece of glass went into my right foot. I screamed in pain. "HOLY SHIT THAT HURT LIKE A BITCH!" I screamed in agony. I fell to the floor, squeezing my foot. I dragged myself back into my bedroom, and flopped onto my small bed. "Fuck if dad sees that I cut myself, he'll beat me even more than he does usually!" I start breaking down, tears streaming down my face, I buried my face into my arms. This fucking hurts a lot. I used my magiks to take the piece of glass out of my foot. I threw the glass into the trash can in my bedroom. I went to one one of my boxes, and dug to the bottom on it. I felt around, and felt a way too familiar feeling of a switch blade in my hands.
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PEOPLE WHO ARE SENSITIVE TO CUTTING, PLEADE SKIP THIS PART, THANK YOU!
I step into my bathroom, and pulled up my left sleeve of my sweater. I saw the older scars that I've cut, going all the way back 10 years ago.
--Flashback--
"Mommy, what's wrong?" I asked my mom. "Stay in your room, and don't come back out until I say so, okay?" She asked me, with a facial expression of either worry or sadness. "Okay Mommy!" I responded with a smile. If only I knew what was going to happen that day. I heard yelling, and then a blood-curdling scream that made me face loose all color.
It was my mom.
My door was then busted open, and I saw dad, with his hands covered in fresh, warm blood, with an insane grin. "D-d-d-daddy???" I screamed. He approached me, and had a blade in his hand. He pushed me to the ground, and cut my arm. "On a scale from 1-10, how would you rate your pain?" He asked me. "10!!!" I yelled. "1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10." He counted, and every time he said a number, he drug the knife further down my arm, into a line down my upper arm. My arm spewed with blood, and the knife was now covered in my blood. Blood trickling down my arm, and onto the carpet below me. Pain ran threw my body, as I passed out from blood loss, and I went to my mom's funeral the next week.
Oh did I say that day was my birthday?
-- Flashback over --
A singular tear ran down my cheek, as I asked my self the same question;
"On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your pain?"
My voice was shaky, and I said 5. "1...2...3...4...5." I said as I made a new cut near my shoulder blade. Blood ran down my arm, and into the bathroom sink.
