Fragile

chapter 1: again and again

I sit up in bed as grab my phone charging next to my desk. “Damn, it’s early.” I mutter as I check the time on my phone. 6:33. It’s the first day at my new school too. I’m only in eighth grade. Ugh… today does not feel like my day. But when does it ever? I groan and finally get out of bed. Fully, like pushing my blankets aside and standing up.

I was just in my casual pink shorts with white drawstrings and my black T-shirt. I yawn and stretch out my arms. I pick up my phone and swipe until I see the camera app. I don’t really have a mirror, (besides the bathroom, but that’s to far away) so I always just use my camera on my phone and check how I look.

“HOLY S***T!!” I yell and drop my phone. Aw man! I hope it isn’t broken. My long, curly brown hair looks… awful! I mean, more than it usually does. (Which takes a lot) I hate my hair, it always looks so… bad. It’s hard to explain. I’m not particularly “excited” about my new school and eighth grade.

I don’t like being called by my name either, it’s Fiona. (Fee-o-na) I like being called nicknames though. I have a lot of them, like, baby face, mini-Dan, curly fry… barfbag, eyesore, ugly, stupid, unwanted, Whiney b***h… yeah, I’d like to forget about the last 6. I mean, there’s more where those came from.

Long story short, I’m bullied for my sexuality, and looks. (I’m bisexual. And my parents aren’t exactly fond of that either) that’s why I moved, here. I hope it’s better this time around. I’ve already been living here for 3 months, I got here when summer just started. I don’t go out of the house unless I need to. I mean, I don’t know this area, all hell could brake loose, or something else might happen to me. Yeah, not taking that risk.

I pick up my phone once again and brush my thumb against the screen. Good, it isn’t broken. And, off I go. Into the kitchen.
“Oi, mom, what’s for breakfast?” I ask, my mom has her back facing me while she does a double flip with whatever is in the pan. Finally, she turns around and says, “pancakes sweety.”

“Ah, ok.” I awkwardly say and shuffle to the nearest chair at the table. Yeah yeah I know, “how can you be awkward around your own mom?” People ask me. Well, we don’t exactly have the best relationship, but we love each other plenty. She did carry me in her stomach for 9 months, I owe not being a jack-ass to her.

A/N: hello!! Thank you so much for reading! This story is an original idea, not a fanfiction. I know this first chapter is really short, but I hardly had any time, so this is what came out of that! :) hope ya don't mind. Peace!! ~♡
(Btw this is my fave song, you should listen to it. It's really good)