I gaze dully at her. Tight bun, slightly smudged eyeshadow, cat's eye eyeliner. This is my therapist, Dipsi. I hate her sweet, mockingly tone she uses with me, like I'm 4. I have to refrain myself sometimes from caving in her face with my fist.Taking a deep breath, I slink lower into the vintage floral chair.
"Jess... Jess!" Ms. Dipsi says, dropping her sickly childish tone to an annoyed shriek. My gaze snaps back onto her.
"Oh, uh, sorry... What?" I ask, trying to remember what she was saying. She puts on an overly forced smile on, her deep cherry lipstick cracking in places on her thin lips.
"Jess, you were dozing off again!" She snaps, her voice rising on each word.
"Well no shit, sherlock..." I grumble under my breath. She giggles coldly and looks back to her floral clipboard.
"Jess, I was asking if anything is going on in school." She asks, almost in a mocking tone.
"Homework and stuff, I guess?" I say, the lie sticking in my stomach horribly. Of course something is going on at school. Bullies, failing grades? Yep, that sounds about right.
"Hmmm!" Ms. Dipsi sounds, marking something down on her plastic clipboard. My fists clench at my sides, my nails digging into my palms, drawing blood. I feel the thin hot streams of scarlet drip from my pale hands and onto the chair. I feel her eyes burn into me as I look down at my lap.
"Your father mentioned some girls at school..." she says slowly, trying to pry information out of me. I feel my cheeks burn. Suddenly her phone buzzed, saving me from spilling.
"Looks like it's time to go!" I say almost too cheerfully. I quickly sit up from the now blood stained chair, and hurry out.
I walked out of the building, cold air blasting my face, my blonde hair whipping around my head, tangling horribly. I groan in the thought of trying to remove my new knots stuck in my thick curls. My eyes flutter as I search the parking lot for my car. My eyes lock onto it's blue glassy appearance, mud splashed up the sides slightly. I sigh and rush to it, trying to free myself from more hair to untangle.
***
I park my car and quickly rush inside the gray house, that I've grown to hate. I slip into the hallway and listen for sounds.
The television hums softly in the next room and I hear my father snoring. I sigh, gently and carefully place my feet where I know the old creaky wood floor won't crack, sneaking up to my room.
I flop on my grey sheets, wrapping them around my slender frame. Small holes checker them, and I gently pull on one, making it larger. I hear a faint and sudden gruff yell and loud footsteps. I feel my heart race quicken and my breathing becomes short and harsh. My father has woken up.
I inhale sharply and squeeze my eyes shut and I hear him butt the door open. Even though my eyes are closed, a can still picture his big frame, lumbering through my room to my bed. Shakily I open my eyes and look at his feet.
"H-Hi, sir..." I mumble, my voice faltering. Suddenly I feel his hand make hard contact with my cheek and I cry out, falling off the bed and onto the poorly put in scratchy carpet. I hold my cheek as it throbs, tears filling my big eyes.
"SPEAK ONLY WHEN SPOKEN TO, SLUT!" he yells at me. My body clenches and I look up into his blazing auburn eyes, each one burning with intense hatred. I sniffle, still holding my cheek and nod slowly.
He spits on the stained carpet and lumbers out. I feel the tears roll down my cheek in big fat ugly drops, falling to the floor. I get back on my bed, crying myself to a sleep corrupted by nightmares of the hell in my father's eyes.
***
I wake up and tug a sweater over my shirt, still wearing the jeans from yesterday. I grab my makeup, trying desperately to cover up the blue bruise on my right cheek. Once I'm satisfied, I grab my leather backpack and head out, careful to step over the beer cans and not wake up my father. I open the door and rush out, the sun blinding me for a couple seconds.
The breeze is soft, making my hair sway slightly. I bat my eyelashes to keep the wind from stinging my eyes and begin the walk to school.
***
I open the school doors with shaky hands and take some deep breaths, trying to bury the anxiety burning in my throat. The halls are buzzing with activity, people chatting and others trying to quickly finish their homework. I scan the hall, but there's no sign of Britney, a shark in high heels and pink lip gloss. My breath catches as I feel two hands make contact with my back and I fall on the cold tile. The chatter stops, replaced by silence, then laughter.
"Freak!"
"Haha, what a loser!"
"I wonder if she's hurt..."
"Don't worry about her, she's a no one."
"Glad it isn't me!"
Works echo the hall and I already feel the tears rimming in my eyes.
"Aww, the freak's gonna cry!" Britney says, her voice teasing my very existence. I blink the tears out of my eyes and shakily stand up. Anger wells in my chest and my fists clench. I spin around to face her.
"Hmm, Britney, you're not crying though." I say plainly. Everyone gasps. The bell rings and people dash off to class, and I use it to my advantage, slipping away from her.
***
Classes finish for the day and I wait in the bathroom stall for everyone to leave. I don't think I can own up to Britney right now. After 30 minutes, I assume it's safe and slip out, my eyes searching the hall of life. I sigh in relief as I see no movement and begin to trudge off when I feel nails dig into my shoulder.
"That was some stunt you pulled off today, freak..." Britney hisses in my ear. I jerk away to face the shark, her eyes blazing. I try to summon the strength from earlier, but it's all gone. Anxiety clutches my body as I freeze, ready for whatever she has in store for me. Her hand whipps across my face, smudging the makeup I had poorly applied this morning. The bruise from last night stings and I blindy shove Britney. I hear her yell, followed by a sickening crunch.
I slowly open my eyes and peek over the ledge of the staircase, and see her body, twisted horribly and blood pooling from a gash teared in her neck, which is bent unhumanly. Her once fire filled eyes are empty and dull. I rush down and feel her pulse.
I just killed Britney Maree.
