Never Love An English

Tick-Tock

Be Jade:

Mom just dropped me off for my first day in the second grade at Alternia Elementary School. Another year of hell with 4 more years following after, each year shitter than the last. I stand, holding bags of supplies in my hands. Jake is lucky that he got sick over the weekend and gets to stay home.

The bell goes off and I rush to my class. I make myself comfortable, putting my backpack on the hook, and the supply bags on a round table with the others. I choose a desk and take a seat. The teacher greets us with a, "good morning." We all say the same thing back. Except for me, I didn't speak.

Recess came closer, the bell ringing. We got inline then exited the building out to the playground. I sat out in the field, alone as usual.

I felt a rock hit my back, but I didn't look back. Another one hit me, a little bit lower than the last rock, I still didn't look back. Rock after rock, 10 rocks thrown. 2 hitting me in the head, 4 against my arms, 3 on my back, 1 being bigger than the rest and barley missing my cheek as it hit my shoulder. The big rock was a rough one, it hit me harder than the rest. During all 10 rocks, I never looked back. Not even once. I knew who it was. He still hasn't changed.

Karkat Vantas, the boy with crooked teeth, wicked grin, slited eyes, and an attitude. He always throws rocks at me.

"Karkat, haven't you learned a new punishment yet? Throwing rocks is getting old." I said, still facing away.

"How'd you know it was me?" He said.

"Because you rarely hit your target and never do anything new." I spoke quietly.

"Oh, that's where you're wrong farmstink." He said.

I felt a sharp pain, it felt like a car fell on my head. Tears fell down my face but I didn't really care. People have done this to me before.

"Aww, little farmstink is crying." He said, looking into my eyes.

It's been a year or two since Jake got home. And less than a month since my father died. My father wasn't murdered, he died of illness, he never told us before it happened, the doctors described it as a ticking time bomb. He lived a good life. I still miss him tho.

More tears fell down my face, pants for air to come in my lungs, little whimpers coming from my mouth. My dad was my life, the one that cared and loved me. Now I have no one..

Karkat kicked me repeatedly. I could hear a recess duty blowing their whistle. Karkat kept kicking me as I cried. I didn't care about the pain on my outter edges, I cared about the pain inside, the pain in my heart.

The recess duty took me to the office, having my mother take me home. I got home and hung out with Jake as much as possible, hoping to catch his cold.

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