Love Me Anyway (A student-teacher relationship)

Chapter Seven

It was a crap morning. I mean, seriously – crappy. At the moment, I had to ask myself, does life really hate me this much. My nose was on fire. I had already taken enough aspirin to overdose, and it hadn’t even made a dent in the pain. The left side of my face was nothing but bruise, and throbbed at the faintest contact with anything, including air. I prayed that nothing had been fractured, and though it had happened before, I think I had gotten lucky this time. My wrists had scabbed over in the night, but they were still incredibly tender. I would have to be careful not to split those during the school day.

Because yes, I was going to school. As much as I wanted to curl up in my bed, and clutch the illusion of safety, that was an impossibility. I couldn’t stay home during the day when Daddy was around. It was dangerous enough when Marcus and Shianne were in the house too, seen as my father had no reserves about having an audience, but alone it would be even worse.

I dragged myself out of bed, my whole body aching due to my restless sleep. My shower was stinging hot, but I couldn’t bother to adjust the levels. I made sure to keep my back to the spray, as not to disturb my injuries, while letting the continual pounding unwork the muscles in my back. All in all, I was still exhausted, but something good can be said for a hot shower. It made me feel more prepared to face the day.

I applied my eyeliner with a meticulous hand, avoiding any contact with my cheek. My eyeliner was always heavy, but not so much thick as it was dark. I ran a brush through my hair, only enough to get the tangles out. My hair took to long to style for me to really bother with it. The most attention I paid to it was to make sure my bangs remained in my eyes and that they remained black as well. It just got awkward when the dye started to fade and they were and ugly shade of grey. I would cover my bruise in some way, but I couldn’t handle the tedious application of concealer and the pain all at the same time. I dressed, opting for something a little different than my typical black. Dark washed skinny jeans and a baggy, neon green hoodie. I wear black because I like black, not because I have to.

I pulled my hood up around my hair so no one would see anything when I went down. They would all wonder (besides Daddy, who would already  know) but none of them would ask. And even if they did, I would tell them, and they would just give me those blank stares.

I  skipped out on breakfast. I wasn’t hungry. Sophia’s car was already waiting outside, earlier for once. I pulled my hood tighter around my face, and hopped in, staring vacantly out the window as she chattered on and on, completely oblivious. That was another thing I disliked about Sophia, the way she was so completely absorbed in herself. Did she even know that any one else existed? But I supposed it was good in the sense that she never asked for my feedback, because then I would be screwed.

I avoided everyone around school, kept my hood up and my face down. I didn’t want to face anyone until I had to, which would be in first period, when my teacher told me to remove my hood. They would give me that startled, regretful glance, but then just continue on. Its not like no one had ever tried to do anything. From the time I was five, people were constantly trying to get me out of my home, but my father had enough money to bribe any officials into letting me stay. In the recent years, people had taken to giving up. My father had to much money, to much influence, for anyone to go against his will.

I considered skipping the whole day again, but just knowing how disappointed Marcus would be immediately eliminated that possibility. I would go to class. Maybe I wouldn’t pay any attention, but I would at least show up.

I slipped into homeroom after stopping by my locker, taking an empty seat in the back and trying to make myself as small as possible. I pretended not to notice Nicole as she sat down besides me, my attention focused solely on the sleeves of my jacket, pulling them lower over my finger tips.