My Discovery

Chapter 1

Everyone has a darkness. Something evil lurking inside them. Some display it to the rest of the world, others hold it inside. Both are dangerous, no doubt. It is no secret that all people have problems. How we deal with them, however, is the hardest part. 

                                                                                              ---

"Ms. Croga?"

"Yes?" I say removing my eyes from my paper to the teacher up front. 

"Would you like to answer the question?"

"Um..." I fumble through my notes, despite the fact that I have no idea what the question is.

"As I suspected. Ms. Croga is too busy in her own fantasy writing to pay attention to my teachings." My teacher turns around and continues to write on the board behind her.

I hear quiet chuckles and turn to a bright shade of red. I take out my notebook and mimic the other zombie-like students in the class. What's the point in this class anyway? I mean when in life will I need to know how to graph imaginary numbers. I scanned the room, seeing if anyone is still staring at me. My eyes graze across Melissa. Bitch. She's been making my life more miserable than it already is since seventh grade. She turns to look in my direction and we make eye contact. She smiles and I look away quickly. Fuck fuck fuck!  I know what you're thinking, that brown haired, blue eyed, angel looking creature wouldn't hurt a fly. And you may be right, she might not hurt a fly, but last time I checked I wasn't a fly. The bell rang, I quickly gather all of my things and scurry out of the classroom to my locker. I grab the books I need for my next class and my lunch. I flinch as my locker is slammed shut.

"What were you writing about today?" Melissa takes my hair and twirls it with her petite fingers. 

"None of your business." I'm careful not to look at her directly. As I'm about to reopen my locker she grabs my journal and starts flipping through it. "Give it back!"

"Wow, you draw too. Impressive."

"Fuck off!" I grab my journal from her hands and push past her, not caring that I don't have all of my books. I make my way through the crowds of teenagers and open the door to the 'eating area' outside. I usually like to spend my lunch period in the library but we can't eat in there and today is one of those rare days where I actually have food. 

I walk outside and find a closed off, dark, corner where no one will bother me. I open my lunch bag and pull out my sandwich, ham and cheese, yes I know it's boring. I take a few bites then set it down and pull out my journal. I flip through the pages, reminiscing on why I wrote or drew what I did. I don't think I'm good at many things, but I'm confident in my drawings. It was just one of those skills I've always kind of had and once I started teaching myself more I became quite good. 

"Hey." I look up to see my friend, Lacy.

"Hey." I move over giving her room to sit.

"Lunch today?" she asks as she sits down beside me.

"Yeah."

"You okay?" Lacy smiles at me and places her hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I smile back.

"Babe, we both know what fine means."

"Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional." We say in unison and laugh.

"And don't call me babe." I smile and hand her a piece of my sandwich.

"No thanks, vegetarian remember?"

"Right right." I say in a snooty tone.

"Hey do you wanna hang out after school? You could come over to my house."

"I would but I have that meeting thing. You know for my 'problems'."

"Right right " She mimics me and I smile playfully hitting her shoulder. "Well good luck, I got to get back to Sara and Minnie." 

Sara and Minnie were those stereotypical ditzy blonde types. I hate the word popular, but that's what I would use to describe them as well as Lacy. I really don't like those two, but Lacy is different. It's hard to explain, but I feel like she understands. Not just me but everyone and everything. She'll love you if you just give her the chance, but people don't see that. All people see is her rich dad, expensive clothes, and attractive boyfriend. She's been hurt before. Her mom died when she was six. Her dad remarried an abusive cunt, and after eight years he finally left her. Her dad didn't know though, there were no physical scars it was all mental. Sometimes Lacy says that she would've rather been hurt physically than verbally, the scars wouldn't run as deep. Either way it's terrible. Since she opened up to me, however, she now expects me to do the same. Maybe one day, I tell her, but not now. 

"Have fun." She waves as she walks out from my little corner.

I finally make it through my last three classes and pack up my bag. No Melissa to bother me this time, luckily. I make it out of school and head to the city bus stop. As I listen to the small sounds that surround me, the bus comes to a stop and I walk on.