~~~~~A L I~~~~~
Isa.
Her name suddenly appears in my head. No voice or echo, like all of the movies depict, just Isa. I don't hear it but I know it's there.
I close my eyes and frown slightly, desperately trying to regain my train of thought. Elle catches my eye, trying and failing to remind me of what I was saying. She is holding up one finger then pushing it over with her other hand, meaning chopping down trees. It takes everything I have not to roll my eyes at her.
I crane my neck around to read the text on my carefully crafted slideshow, my face heating up. It was going so well as well.
"Um, deforestation could be fatal for the wildlife living in the rainforest because many of their habitats are based around the trees."
As I take a step backwards my hand slips on the controller in my hand and the slideshow flicks to the end. I turn back towards my class, my face scarlet, one hand nervously tugging through the knots in my shoulder-length hair.
"Um, thanks for listening." I mumble flatly then, avoiding eye contact with the teacher, shuffle to my desk.
I've felt weird all day today. I haven't seen Isa around, she maybe had a dentist appointment but she and Betty normally have them together and I've seen her today. She's one of those weirdos who loves school.
"Thank you, Alison," says the teacher, giving me a 'Not up to your usual standard' look, "I think that's all we have time for today, the bell should be going any...."
She is interrupted by a loud ring, dismissing us from school for the day and almost making my ears bleed. Teachers are psychic like that.
I grab my stuff and leave the classroom as swiftly as I can, not waiting for Elle; she has other people to walk with.
During the walk home I remind myself to text Isa ASAP! She never misses school if she can help it so she's given me most of the colds I've ever had, coming into school coughing and sneezing. She always thought it was so funny. We didn't.
Eventually I can think of little else so I pause outside a newsagent and fire off a quick message to her, leaning against a lamppost.
Hey, u ok? X
As I'm walking down the hill I hear a bleep from my phone in my pocket.
Yeah, I'm fine, just had a cold. x
Despite her reassurance I still believe there something else. I'm worried about her. That tiny text was far from her normal paragraphs.
My phone buzzes again, this time the instagram logo flashes on the screen. A comment on my latest post, a mirror selfie taken so you can see down to my waist. I'm wearing a blue crop top and high waisted leggings. I thought I looked good, my friends thought I looked good. Or they said I did. The commenter doesn't feel the need to lie.
Omg she's so ugly and fat, why would she even post that!?
I delete the comment, my hands shaking slightly. I'm just putting my phone back when it buzzes again. Another comment from the same person, sugarandspice365,
Ugh, why are these ppl allowed on the internet?!
Frowning, I delete the post. The movement of my fingers is minute but now that post isn't on the internet anymore. Why does it feel like giving in? It's happened before but I know what to do now. I won't let her get to me.
YOU ARE READING
Isa's Scars
Teen FictionSticks and bones may break my bones but bones will heal. These scars won't fade. She was fine. Fun. Chill. Always with a smile or a joke. She pretends she's fine, that nothing's wrong, that her smile is every bit as real as her cuts. She has people...
