MORNING LIGHT POURED IN through the slightly cracked windows of her apartment that was new to her but old for the ground that held it. The light sliced the darkness that had filled the room since yesterday evening. It was quite peaceful in the new apartment. Thats what she thought.
She woke up and went to her so called washroom. It had all the necessary items, so it was enough for her. She looked at herself in the mirror that was dusty and had small cracks here and there. "Survived one more night", she mumbled to herself and tried to smile. She quickly did her work and got ready for school. She wore her neatly pressed uniform, that she thought might look good to them.
She looked at all edibles she had left. Five slices of bread, some leftover jam that looked disgusting, a small water bottle and two bag of chips that she bought yesterday for today's lunch. She picked up a bag of chips. Looks like she has to survive on chips again.
She looked at her notebook that she kept on her mattress last night. "Felisha Colms", it read her name, the only thing that she had confidence in. Her mother had given her that name. Unfortunately she didnt live long to call her that. If only she could bring her back and then everything would somehow be fine.
Felisha placed her notebook neatly inside her bag. She knew that everything would get better by time. She hoped for the best. She came out of the rusty apartment and locked the door behind her. She ate her breakfast which was barely a packet of chips while walking down to school. It wasn't far. She was a junior, third year in high school. All these years she never gained friendship neither had an interest to. She was all on her own.
Someone called her name from behind when she was almost crossing the road. She turned around to see the guys from her class standing in a group and laughing at her. "Ugly Fatso!!", they all yelled together. She turned around and continued on her way, looking down. She threw the bag of chips that was halfway full on the ground. Controlling her tears, she entered her school.
Ugly fatso.
Haunted soul.
Crazy bitch.
This was the routine.
This was what she was.
No one would ever like her.
Little did she know.
YOU ARE READING
A Thousand Years
Teen Fictionthere is a beautiful thing inside you, that is thousands of years old. too old to be captured in poems. too old to be loved by everyone. but loved so very deeply, by a chosen few.
