5 years ago age eighteen.
I woke up that morning in pain, the bruises from last night still sting. I walk queitly to the bathroom as not to wake up the demon. I take care of my needes and sneek out the hours without breakfast. When I got to school I was late for period (Literature), but whatever. I walk into class unfazed by the usual stares and ever evolving whispers. I sit in my seat only to cetch my teacher corner eyeing me. Like always i roll my eyes and put my head down. Ive already read the book this sh#t is boring me. 45min later.... I was about to walk out of class when Mrs.Walters called out to me. "Shay. You like to be called that right,any way how have you been doing?" she said in a skittish voice. Why she ask me this, man these teachers is always asuming stuff. Even if it is true, stupid stuff. "Yes, I'm fine is there anything else you need. Mrs.Walters." " Uh n-no that was all you can go." I walk out of class and down the hall already late for my next class. I was about turn the corner when i collided into someone. I caught my self and the other person fell. "Maybe u should watch what your doing" the girl mumbles a sorry and i walk off. I hear her calling my name, it cant be anything to important so i keeo walking. At luch After 2nd and 3rd period..... So i'm walking to the table in the corner, its my usual spot. And all of a sudden I hear someone yell 'Hey, hey u with the curly hair. I have your note book. I sit down and she comes crashing down next to me. "Her-e I ha-ve you-r notebook." I didnt even noticed that i dropped it."Thanks" i mumble under my breath almost to low to here. "So listen i read some of the stuff in there and..." wat the Jesus" ..well your writings the stuff." I look at here in astonishment, as she sticks her hand out and says 'My name is Delilah Willows' i stick my hand out wearily 'Shay, shay smith.' The res of the day was boring, besides learning mored about that incredibly uncanny girl. On my way home i walk slow feeling a little bit lightier, a little happier. When i get hom despair despair seeps out of my pores. I walk up the stairs opening the door, trying to decrease the creeking. I can already hear the loud music and obnoxious raping. Its slurred and almost completely uncomprehensive. I walk up the stairs into the eye of the storm, into my nightmare, and the horror begins.
YOU ARE READING
When I Look Back
Short StoryAs God would have it no one is perfect. No one comes from perfection. But this is a story to show that perfection is not a neccesity. That making yourself into something just takes work.
