Bruises (On Hold)

Chapter Two

My body tensed as I walked down the hallway. These school hallways are the same hallways I've been thrown, hurt, punched, and kicked in. The hallways where the teachers see all these things happening, but do nothing about it. The hallways where my worth becomes nothing.

I tried to ignore the stares and murmurs as I walked by. They stared at me like I was some ferocious animal. As if I had some contagious disease and if they even did so much as speak to me, they would be infected.

All of a sudden I felt a hand on my back and with a strong force, the hand pushed me. My books went flying out of my hands as I tried to catch myself from falling. Instead, my back hit the cold metal of the lockers and immediately the hallway was filled with laughter and giggles. I glared at my feet, then looked up. The glare didn't leave my eyes when I saw who it was. Damn it, why does Landon always feel the need to hurt me whenever he lays his cold eyes on me? I was like a rag doll to him, always being thrown around.

"Lila," He spat with disgust, "Stop glaring, it really doesn't look good on you," He feigned sadness as if he were sympathetic to the look on my face.

I sighed, feeling defeated, always unable to win this unspeakable battle between Landon and I. I softened my glare, clutching my hands in a ball of a fist in anger. I hate him controlling me.

He patted my head like I was a dog, "Good girl." He said.

I almost barfed at his tone, flinching away from his touch. I didn't need his dirty hands anywhere near me.

He walked away, snickering and high-fiving his friends as if he had just won a football game. I picked up my books, already feeling the bruises on my back form.

Nobody helped me. But that's just the way it was. Everyone hated me, they despised me. Why help someone you hate, right?

Maybe one day someone will realize that what's going on is this school, is so terribly wrong. But for now, it just stays this way. It's the way it's always been, and it's probably going to stay that way. No one cared enough.

I went to my first period class, taking my seat. I slouched down, hoping for no one to notice me. I didn't want the attention I get. I try to avoid it at all costs. Most people like attention, but not this girl. Well, actually there's a difference between the attention I get and the attention others get.

Other people get the kind of attention that everyone praises them for and it makes them feel good. But that's not me. It was the complete opposite. The attention that I get is unwanted and embarrassing. I always got laughed at no matter what or who was bullying me. No one would dare speak up to help. They're all too afraid that their "image" of popularity would be ruined.

My wish to be ignored was denied, I thought to myself once I heard the clicking of heels on the school tiles.

"Oh.. Lila, I didn't see you there. I mean I don't know how I didn't see you, you're pretty damn fat. I mean just look at all that flab on you. Take some advice from me sweetie, and stop eating." A high-pitched voice screeched. I could hear the laughter come from my classmates.

I immediately tensed up. Jasmine Laker, the "queen-bee" of the school, also the slut. I hate her, but I'm pretty sure the feeling runs both ways. She was the girl that just loved to tease and hurt me with her little minions backing her up. She glared down at me, her head up high like the little prissy princess she was.

Why was she so much better than everyone else?  What was it that made her so perfect? Was it the expensive jewelry that she had slapped on her wrists, fingers, and neck? Or maybe it's the tight and short clothing she always wore? Possibly all the make up she caked on? Or was it the fact that she spread her legs open to just any breathing male out there? That she practically made out with all the boys in the school? Is that what made her so popular? Is that what got her to the top of the food chain?