❝I'll take the number 7, please! The hot cocoa!❞
❝I asked for hot cocoa! Not a fucking demon!❞
★彡 HOT COCOA彡★
In life, we face many, many trials and tribulations. Some more than others. Abuse, poverty, sexism, racism, war, genocide, and...
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*
❝screw you and your dumb ass class❞
*
We have already established the hardships of being a kid. You have no say and you're not taken seriously. Being a teen is even worse.
Girls are meaner than ever, boys are a little less dumb and oblivious, but still, and parents seem not to care one bit. All that love they gave you as a child seems to disappear. It's still there but, just less of it.
And don't get me started on high school.
Oh, Lord, give the students of Derry High School strength because that place is hell on earth.
Beverly Marsh often found herself sighing and smoking in the girl's bathroom before Greta Keene could find and torture her.
Beverly despised the blonde. She hated Greta with every bone in her body. Greta always harassed her and spread rumors about her. And the worst part was,
Everyone believed her.
Everyone believed Greta's words over the truth.
It used to hurt. It did. A lot actually. The fact that she had no friends and no one to stand up for her, used to hurt Beverly Marsh in so many ways.
But, she was now a sophomore in high school and those hurt feelings were gone.
They disappeared along with the rest of her emotions.
Beverly Marsh was numb. She didn't have the bright blue eyes she once had, they were dull and lifeless, her freckled face was pale, and her body was covered in scars and bruises, some deeper than others.
Beverly Marsh was broken, pieces of her were scattered, like a box of puzzle pieces dropped onto the ground, making the pieces fall in places nobody knew of. She was waiting for somebody to help her put that large puzzle back together.
*
"Ms. Marsh! Maybe you would like to show the class what on that paper is so important that you're ignoring me during my class!" the teacher, Mr. Minillo yelled, causing students to turn and snicker at the redhead.
Beverly sighed and slowly looked up to see a red-faced, balding, middle-aged man. Basically, everyone hated Mr. Minillo but loved him when he picked on other students. His social studies class was a complete bitch to pass.
"So? What are you waiting for Ms. Marsh, an invitation!? What is so important that you were ignoring me!?" he yelled at her, putting his small piece of chalk back onto the board, crossing his scrawny pale arms.
