Darkness' Delusions

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

 I stare at the ground beneath me, that's long needed repairs. It's my driveway—or well, technically not mine, my parents'. Either way it's no surprise to me: The damage, that is. Practically everything's broken down at my house. Even the people inside it. Lord knows it's definitely true about me. I wish it weren't. But there's no going back. No going back to change all the mistakes I've made in the past. Now, all there is, is to go forward. That's what Rae tells me anyway. Though, she's not really one to speak. It is because of her and her husband why I hurt so much....or maybe it's not. Maybe it's because of me. It is because of me. I was the one stupid enough to carelessly expose myself and trust them. I gave them everything. I gave them....my heart.

And I regret it.

I harshly kick a rock across the street and look up. The school bus should be coming any second now. And I need to be on a lookout. I kick another rock, this time with more force. I need to get my frustration out as I once again catch myself resorting to thinking about my past. I know it'll do no good—Rae tells me that too—but still, the temptation is way too great. Even if it does leave me more grievous than I was before. But really, I do need to stop. I'm sixteen and I feel that I'm too old to be moping over such silly relationships I've had in the past. So, why then do I keep replaying the memories in my head? Do they make me cry? Does it hurts so bad?

I'm not given time to answer.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the school bus slew its way around the corner then barrel down my street until it abruptly comes to a stop at the end of my driveway. I don't know what my bus driver's problem is but she needs to realize that there's a reason why the speed limit on my street reads fifteen miles per hour and not sixty. She does this every day. It's ridiculous. One day she's going to get into a bus accident and some over concerned soccer mom's going to sue her. It'll happen—I can so see it.

I watch my bus driver—her name's Miss Daisy- through the glass door pull the lever and crank the folding doors open. I climb in. "Good morning, Miss Daisy." I fake a pleasant smile. Not because I don't like her, but because inside I feel like falling apart. The thoughts of my past are still in my head. And they constantly persist to have my attention. I will not give them any.

She frowns. "Humph...it hasn't been a very good morning for me. Go find your seat." I expected her to say something like this—she's known for being grumpy and always having bad days—but somewhere, somehow under her middle age, worn-out skin, I know she's someone else. I know that maybe she was once a beautiful young lady full of laughter and smiles. I know this because I know what pain can do to a person; I know what it did to me. What it still does to me. It breaks them apart, changes their whole demeanor, wears out their bodies into a fragile dead corpse—the side effects of holding on to pain are never good.

Not really knowing how to respond, I attempt to give her a sad smile. This time it's genuine. But it's obvious she doesn't care. Her wrinkles just gather up into a tighter grimace. "Hurry up! Just don't stand there!" Her gruff voice raises in volume. You can tell by the sound of her voice that she was once a smoker...or still is—the smell of cigarettes does heavily reek the air around her. I cough. I do not like the idea of smoking and the odor of cigarettes alway gives me headaches and makes it difficult for me to breathe. I don't know how she can stand it. "I have other people to pick up, and I don't intend to be late. So, don't ruin my schedule!" Her eyes sternly peers into mine.

My nose wrinkles. I want to cough again but I don't want to seem rude. I will definitely hurry up to find a seat. "Uh...sorry." I say it so quietly, I wonder if she was able to hear me. I hope she did. I grab each of the straps of my backpack with my hands and hold them securely. Then I scurry in between the narrow walkway of the bus until I find a seat in the very back. It's already occupied by a boy named Ricky, but he sits so close to the window side that it leaves a huge space for me to sit in. When I do, he doesn't even turn to acknowledge me. He just looks outside while bobbing his head back and forth in a rhythmic way, and soon I realize that under his baggy hood that covers most of his head and ears are probably a set of earphones. I shrug my shoulders. And for the rest of the ride to school, I lean my head on my arms, that rest uncomfortably on my two bony knees, and close my eyes. I can't help it; I think about my past again. And before I have time to scold myself, the school bus jerks into the Elton High School's driveway.