Endless

Chapter 1; Bring me to Life

"Hey, emo fag!"

My eyes narrowed as I tried to walk faster, my sneakers squeaking noisily. The sound bothered me nonetheless. It wasn't the first time I'd heard this insult, but it still got to me just the same. When you heard it your whole life, you sort of got used to it. 

The massive lights above flicked as I strolled underneath them, the sounds of my antagonist's footsteps echoing after me. I tried to quicken my pace once more; the faster you walked, the faster the whole thing would be over with. A painful jolt ran up my spine, full force. My hand swung to my lower back, aimlessly hovering over the pain, as if it could somehow cure it. I wouldn't have had any objections if it did, however, because a lot of setbacks had revolved around my chronic back pain. I hadn't been born with it. Over the years I'd fallen into a stressful tangle of unhappiness, and along with it, an ache in my back every now and then.

  "Go kill yourself already!" the voice sneered.

I knew who it was today; Mark Wilson, head of the football team. He was a six foot brooding goofball, with nothing more than the female population on his mind. Although a simple person, favoured by more than half of the student body, he'd had it out for me since the first day of my grade nine year. And what had I done to this town famous football star? Zilch. Nada. Nothing. I was that quiet girl who seemed to drift more than walk through the halls of Ridgewood High. And what better way to spend an hour after school tormenting me? 

I let several other snide remarks pass through me, without so much as phasing me. My mother had always told me Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can never hurt you.Yeah, right. Whoever came up with that had never spent a day in shoes destined for the emotional. 

He continued to follow, the soles of his beat up Nikes thudding throughout the seemingly abandoned corridor. The worst part was, nobody was around to witness Mark stalking me with cruel words of harassment as I tried to make my way to my locker. 

Another cold insult was thrown at the back of my head. My hands balled into fists with the burning desire to tell him off. But, like every situation, that would only make it worse. At last I could see my locker at the end of the hall. A slight smile crept upon my face, for I knew freedom awaited me as soon as I grabbed my sweater and left. I fumbled with the lock stupidly, almost throwing the door open. My eyes swept over the shelves and hooks inside for my favourite sweater; it had been given to me as a birthday gift from my Aunt Katy, who lived in Florida. I barely saw her after our family had tragically broken apart. The lime green and black stripes of the fabric caught my eye, and I frantically shoved the sweater into my backpack. Mark casually leaned back, arms crossed, watching. Waiting. It caused my anxiety level to climax. I turned swiftly on the heel of my foot, locking the lock again in a single movement. As I started to leave, my foot caught on the tiled floor, with the sudden craving to run. 

Don't you dare run. He'll see your fear. The little voice in my head had seen events much worse, but extremely similar to this, and knew exactly how to keep my anxiety under control. 

A small movie played in my memory.

I was young again. Maybe seven or eight, but innocent and carefree all the same. It was recess at Ridgewood Public School, and on the small playground was a row of Elm trees. The few friends I'd had and myself had claimed the furthest tree from the school, as our own. In that day, claiming the best chill spot made you cool. Back then, we hadn't done much of anything, except for the usual routine of a child; talking, playing pretend, getting in fights that were soon forgotten the next day. Because the five of us couldn't live without each other. We couldn't go a day being mad at one another. Days back then were so simple, so desirable. In this memory, my friends and I had been playing another exciting game of pretend--- today it was vampires. I remembered running around, playfully tackling each other and sucking imaginary blood. It had been one of the happiest days of my life, until I'd wandered into the wrong girl.