The Hidden Soul Language (Discontinued)

Prologue

9 years old

It's 3am and I've locked myself in the bathroom.

The boy with messy brown mat of hair and striking gray eyes that reminded me of a stormy day started name-calling me came into my mind.

Just that thought itself had got my breathing short, my heartbeat spiked up, and makes feel uncomfortable inside out. Don't take it the wrong way; I really hate him. He worse than just a boy with cooties.

I tried to calm myself down with deep breaths and counting but those could only put that feeling off temporarily.

Then, something glinted in the light near the basin caught my eye. Something sharp and silvery. Dad's shaving blades.

I wiped off the cold sweat and tears that I didn't realize I was letting out and walked towards it. I never felt so, for lack of better word, in trance when i picked the blade up and lost all rationality to think but only what happened in the past 5 years until now.

*FLASHBACK*

All of them were the same. The way they looked at me and talk behind my back. Some even dared to comment straight up in my face, only because the gray-eyed boy started it.

"Hey, ugly! Didn't someone tell you that you look like a freak?"

"Look out! Here comes the ugly witch!"

"Ugh! Even hobos look better than you, jerk!"

"Gosh, she's so creepy!"

And so on and so forth.

I'm not sure why but since Pre-school till now, the same boy (I seriously need to find out his name!) has been on my tail for the longest of time despite there were some others that remembered me unfortunately.

Fate, karma, destiny, whatever you want to call it, must really hate me now.

I really tried telling someone about this bully thing, for this case the teachers. You wanna know what they did? All they told me was, "Oh, they're just teasing with you! Don't take it personally!"

Stupid...

Anyway, if you thought the name-calling thing was bad, well you're wrong. They took one step further. It was art class and We had to do some activity which required a small bucket of paint. Obviously, I was left with some weird, dull color which looked like diarrhea.

Ew.

What felt like forever later, I heard Gray Eyes called my name. And of course, I knew it was him because I had heard his voice long enough to the point it annoyed and echoed in my ears.

Instinctly, I turned around in my seat to face him despite one part of me warned me not to do so since he'll do something to me. Then, the next thing I realized what happened was that I was covered in red paint. He then said: "Look good in red, Witch. Which reminds me, do you actually drink blood like vampires do too?"

Did it stop there? No.

Most of the kids joined in throwing and splattering paint at my direction. A group of them even started throwing glue, spat-out chewing gum and a-day-old candy at me. Especially my face and hair.

Anger took over and I tackled Gray Eyes to the floor, throwing punches and slapping him with all the frustration and fury stored up in me.

The teacher then decided to enter the scene and now I'm the bad guy instead of Gray Eyes. Long story short, I was in detention, grounded for 5 agonizing months and thrown out of school for a week.

*BACK TO REALITY*

All senses came back to me thanks to the burning and throbbing feeling on my left arm. My face which felt wet and my throat feeling like sandpaper made me realized that I've been sobbing and crying for quite a while. I looked at the mirror and saw my eyes puffy and red, tear tracks on both my cheeks and slightly paled face.

In my hand was a blade I remember picking up but now with red liquid dripping. I turned my head slightly to see my left arm. Harsh slashes and horrible lines marked from my wrist to the elbow. I snapped out of staring and started washing off the blood and cleaning up any evidence that I was here doing what I just done.

Honestly though, I may had felt numb but also at the same time relieving somehow.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE 

Hi! I'm Zoey if you haven't known. This is my first story to be ever written in here so please go easy on mua and I'm open to suggestions you readers have to offer for my story to improve. Don't hesitate to even ask me anything (unless it's really offensive, rude or just plain nonsense). Cya real soon!

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