Social Empire

Chapter 1

"Hurry up Izza!"

The sound of my father's voice hollering all the way from the driveway wasn't quite the way I imagined the start of my first day at Silver Oak High School would be. I pictured confidence, sassiness and an egoistic me, not clumsiness, lateness, and a hungover looking face (for the record, I wasn't hungover). It was the tears. I had set my alarm to wake me up extra early that morning because I wanted the start of my new life to be great, but by the look of it, it wasn't going so great so far.

"Izza I swear to God if you don't get in the car now you'll be walking to school!" I didn't mind that honestly, except for the fact that my school is probably about 2 miles away from home, and I was in uniform which means I'd get all sweaty by the time I arrive at school; not the image I liked to portray myself as.

"Coming! Just need to get something!" I dashed up my room to get my school bag, then into the kitchen to get my apple and packed milk. I was about to walk out the door then my mother held me back. "Your water bottle," she then handed me the bottle; and with the apple, milk and water bottle in my right hand, I fumbled for my socks and shoes with my left hand and scurried to the car, which was already out the gates, barefooted. I was on the verge of breaking down, but I held back my tears. I didn't want my mood crumbling before my day could even start. I swore to myself that I'd take this change positively.

"Izza, you got to learn to grow up!" My father turned off the stereo, and started lecturing. Great! Just what I need to add the saltiness. Wait, it gets saltier. "Oh thanks a lot Izza, you made Papa turn off the stereo in the middle of a great song," my younger sister, was pissed at me too. For some reason everything seems to be my fault that day. Well, it probably was, but this lateness issue was something I've been working on for years but never could find a solution to it. I tried waking up early, two, three hours earlier, I even tried not sleeping at all, but somehow, someway, I'd always end up late. It's like I've been cursed to be always late no matter what.

My father continued with his lecture.

"I don't want any attitudes from you, get it Izza?" Blah, blah, blah... His voice was so thunderous, yet so vague that it was barely audible. I stared out at the window, observing rain drops tapping the pane and trickling down,  I saw my own reflection, and the tears trickling down my cheeks. "Understand Izza?" Whatever it was that he said, I just answered with a subtle yes.

My father turned on the stereo again, and an upbeat song was playing. My eyes were still staring out the window, but I wasn't viewing anything. My thoughts were on the memories of the previous year, reminding how perfect my life was, before it was taken away from me. Then I reminded myself, stay positive Izza. I wiped my tears and put my game face on; confident, sassy, and classy, which was how I thought I looked, however I can't be so sure if others saw the same. I didn't want to show my vulnerability, that would just make me an easy bully target. As far as I've seen in movies, badass people are the ones who usually survive. At one point, I remember telling Luke that I wanted a personality change.

"I want to change my approach. I want to go bad, but they told that it wasn't one of my best ideas..."

"Hold up, I'm confused. What do you mean?" was Luke's response.

"I wanna be bad, a bad girl. I'm tired of being the Miss Goody Two Shoes who has to always care about others. I'm moving to a new school, a public school. The people there aren't the same as Pacific Grove. It's a whole other society there, the people are viscous and ruthless who wouldn't care about you, so why should I care about them? I'm not planning on fitting in or making friends anyway and since nobody knows me it'll be a fresh start. I get to re-choose my character, and I want to be bad."