Hush

Chapter 3

(Juliet’s P.O.V.)

Speeding about my room, I shoved textbooks into my tattered backpack. It was Monday morning, and as usual I was less than ready for the start of a new week. I hurried into the bathroom and straightened my hair before quickly applying eyeliner and some mascara. Grabbing my bag from my room, I headed down the stairs to begin lacing up my black converse. Finally managing to tie the laces up into messy little bows, I walked over to the mirror at the end of the corridor to examine my reflection.

I looked reasonable enough. I was wearing a black Misfits tank top, dark red skinny jeans, a silver studded belt, and plenty of bracelets to cover up my scars.

Finally opening the door, I stepped out into the crisp morning air, the suns warm rays licking at my skin. I took a deep breath. Maybe today would be a good day.

Walking down my driveway I headed to the end of my road and turned onto the main road which I followed straight on until I reached the school.

I entered the dungeon that is my math’s classroom, and took my normal seat near the window. Before I’d even got out my books I felt the first of many paper missiles hit my back. It didn’t hurt, but boy was it annoying. Ignoring it, I got out everything I’d need for this lesson. Another scrunched up ball of paper hit me, making a soft rustling noise as it collided with my shoulder. This was going to be a very long hour.

One hour and about a million missiles later, I emerged out of the classroom already cursing the fact that I even bothered to come to school today. I was so fed up with how pathetic some people could be. I mean, chucking paper at someone? Really? We’re not in kindergarten. They seriously need to grow up.

My thoughts turned to my friend Andy. He was probably waiting for me in the lobby. We had been best friends since grade 2. Neither of us had any other friends. We had always been outcasts because we liked different things than everybody else. He was the one person in this school who wasn’t a douchebag like the majority of these kids. Picking my way through the crowd, I made my way along the corridor, but a harsh voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Juliet,” it bellowed. “Come here you little bitch.”

It was Joseph. I stopped dead in my tracks, rooted to the spot. Pure fear ran through my body. He wanted his homework for today.  I hadn’t done it. He was going to kill me, probably quite literally.

I felt a sudden weight come down on my shoulder, causing me to lose my balance and almost topple over.

“Where’s my work?” he bellowed down at me. I could swear that the mere force of him yelling created ripples in the air. It was just that loud.

Regaining my balance, I turned around to face him. His blonde hair was slicked back with far too much gel, and he stunk of body spray. Seriously, why did people put so much of that stuff on?

“I… urm…” I helplessly stammered, desperately searching for a way out, but there was none.

“Where is it?” He repeated, narrowing his eyes and lowering his face to mine.

Looking down at my feet, I gulped. This was not going to be pretty.

“I… I don’t… have it,” I stammered out.

A low ground shuddering growl rumbled out of his mouth. He took a swing at my face, knocking me backwards clutching my jaw. I could feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes. Don’t cry, I told myself. Don’t let him get to you.

“You stupid good for nothing freak. You can’t do anything right,” he spat, slapping me hard across the face. I stepped

back away from him, but my back found the cold brick of the corridor wall. There was nowhere to run.

“I… I’m sorry,” I whispered. I couldn’t hold the tears in any longer. Quietly sniffing, I let the first tear roll down my cheek. Quickly followed by another, and then another.

“You’re so pathetic,” he snapped, raising his fist to punch me again. I forced my eyes shut, naively hoping that it would somehow make it hurt less.

“HEY, BACK OFF!” I heard a low voice bellow, quickly followed by the pitter patter of running feet. I kept my eyes shut, I didn’t know what was going on and I was scared of what I might see when I opened them.