Helen:
"Sorry sir, it won't happen again." I half whispered at the deputy head, Mr Conor, who shook his head at me in disapproval.
Adam held an ice pack to his swollen shoulder, where he had crashed onto the floor from my push.
The smallest smirk played on his lips as Mr Conor continued his lecture on health, safety and bullying. I scoffed. How ironic. Was he blind to the amount of abuse I received because of my indifference or did he choose to ignore it? Either way, this lecture was hypocritical.
I trudged out as soon as he dismissed us, eager to get home.
To my dismay, I didn't really get far before my path was blocked.
I didn't need to look up to know who it was.
The same people always came to look for me after school. Oh, and for nothing pleasant.
"Oh look who it is!" Michelle, the biggest bitch of them all laughed like a maniac.
Well, there goes my luck. Not gonna get home in one piece now.
I fixed my gaze on me tattered trainers, avoiding eye contact.
"Bitch look up." A finger jerked my chin up, forcing me to stare at the girl's orange face. Her hand made a harsh connection with my cold cheeks, causing my neck to twist painfully to a side.
I didn't flinch. I guess after a while, all of this became one with my daily routine. The group threw countless punches and kicks all towards me.
Exhausted, I shut my eyes and waited for this pain to be over.
..........
I limped up to my room upstairs as quietly as possible. Didn't want my drunkard dad to add to my pain.
I pulled out some disinfectant from my cabinet. This was kept close to my bed since these incidents were frequent.
I reached over to the mirror once I was done and cautiously begun to peel the contacts off my eyes. My eyes. The reason I had stuck out amongst people. I suffered from heterochromia, a condition in which resulted to two different eye colours. My left eye was a light grey whilst my right was a brown.
My reflection stared back at me.
I personally used to love it. I felt special. Unique. However people saw it as a reason to treat me differently. My very own parents were disgusted by it and had tried to abandon me. "Wear contacts. Or leave. I won't accept such a peculiar being." My mother had yelled at me since the age of 12.
My thoughts were intereupted by a loud slam. Father probably left, I thought as I threw my energy-drained body under the duvets.
......
Adam was already at our desk when I had arrived the next morning.
He didn't even gaze at me as I plopped onto the chair besides him. I kept my head down. The make up was unable to cover the bruises properly and from his proximity some were slightly visible.
As the teacher droned on, I felt Adam poke my arm. "Are you really always this quiet?" He whispered.
I nodded, facing my books.
"Well then, I'm gonna teach you how to be louder." I looked up and painfully raised a brow.
His gaze searched my face. Almost instantly, I turned my head, attempting to hid behind my red curls.
"Helen look at me." His voice sounded commanding.
"Look at me." I flinched at his tone and faced him hesitantly.
His gaze immediately softened as his fingers pushed my hair out of my beaten face.
I unconsciously flinched back when his fingers grazed my cheek lightly.
"Helen," I heard him whisper, "I won't ever hurt you." His gaze held sincerity and some sort of warm feeling.
"Adam! Helen! Is there something you want to share with the class?" The teacher sneered at us.
Adam glanced at me before weighing his options.
In a swift motion he had both our bags in one hand. "Adam where--"
I let out a small gasp as his ice cold fingers wrapped around mine. Without a word, he pulled me out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher's shoutung and the student's laughter behind us.
