LONG CHAPTER
When I get to my room, the first thing I do is go through my records, looking for one that suits my mood. I flip through a few of them, one after the other of old music, alternative music, unknown artists. I can't find one that matches my mood in the first 10, so I end up listening to an urban radio channel. As some cool, slow, moody song fills my room, I wonder around walking in beat to it, thinking about everything. I open my loose floorboard and hide my bottles of alcohol, that were carelessly sitting around the place and my weed, that was in my jumper drawer. I lay on my bed and stare at the roof, my phone beside me bings.
It's Emma.
Ange, heard teachers talking. They are going to ring your Dad if you don't start coming to school soon.
I sit bolt upright and feel dizzy and sick from doing so.
Fuck.
I text back quickly.
I know, right. BTW, we have a new teacher.
Emma replies.
I can't really give two fucks about a new teacher right now, though. I hardly even know the teachers I have now and I had them for nearly 5 months. I feel sick to my core, the teachers are going to tell my Dad if I don't start going back to school regularly. Yeah, Dad knows I'm not going to school much, but as soon as he knows it has become noticeable to a teacher, I will be booked in to all kinds of specialists. He will even use the boarding school threat, where I have no choice but to go.
Cool.
I put down my phone and lay back down, feeling so empty knowing that I will now have to go to school week in, week out. It's not as though school is hard, it is so easy I find it kind of boring and when I get bored, I think of home and when I think of home, I feel sick and emotional because I'm not there. I just want to stay at home. Then, there is lunch and recess time, where I can sometimes get so bored that I feel physically sick and go to sick bay or I start to cry. I blame it on a headache or a pain, because the last thing I need is to have to talk to someone about why I feel this way. My medication was supposed to stop this, only I don't take it, I haven't for about 3 years. It made me feel numb and out of it and I still want to feel, even if it is painful and takes an emotional toll on me. I know it sounds typical, but sometimes the pain is more bearable then nothing, like a noise that is annoying but when it goes you miss it.
Night has fallen and I have just gotten inside from feeding all of the animals and going for a stroll in Mum's and now Katherine's extensive garden. Katherine has cooked dinner and the wind has joined the rain in the storm. Tea is on the table, but I feel myself unable to eat, worried for my return to school tomorrow.
"What is wrong? Do you like it?" Katherine is halfway done and she looks over at my plate worried.
"Oh, yeah," I say vaguely. "It's great, just not hungry." Distracted by my racing thoughts and heart rate, I have begun to feel like I usually do when I have to return to school, like I would rather be anyone in the world who didn't have to go through this, feeling this way.
"I'm going school tomorrow," I tell Katherine.
"Well as we discussed it, I hoped you would." Katherine took her plate around to the sink and begun to do the dishes.
"Ok. I'm going to shower then go to bed, night." I place my plate on the bench and climb the stairs to my bedroom.
I turn on the shower so it is so hot that I can barely stand beneath it. The room fills with fog and mist, making it hard to see the other side of my bathroom. As I stand under the jets that pelt into my skin making me feel like I'm on fire, I wish and wish that I could just wash away with it. Hoping I would end up in the ocean, where I could float around with no strings attached and go wherever I wanted, I would be invisible to nearly all my problems because I would just be another bit of water in the ocean. I start to cry, yet again. I cry and cry and cry, I sink to the floor in the shower and sit there until the water turns cold and my eyes no longer want to contribute to the water washing away. I pull myself off the ground and stumble over to the mirror, I wipe the fog off with one hand and stare back at myself. My eyes were swollen and the green in them is shimmering from the tears making them look pretty, but at a cost. My cheekbones have sharpened and I'm looking hollow, I suppose a few weeks of skipping your meals because you are too intoxicated can do that. My collarbones and pelvis are sticking out more and I have probably lost five kilograms, I didn't think I could even lose anymore weight. I sigh and open the cabinet, scanning all my pills that I keep getting given and looking for the ones that tonight I will take. I shake out a sleeping pill and place it on the sink while I brush my teeth and get changed into my pyjamas. I go back into my room and lie on the bed, holding the pill in my hand and staring at the ceiling, wishing it could help me in some way.
YOU ARE READING
Ange (girlxgirl)
Teen FictionUntil one morning, Ange was avoiding school and struggling, but after striking a deal with her step mother, she returns to school on a regular basis and meets her new teacher, Miss Winnett, and Ange realises that maybe school isn't that bad after a...