Broken (A suicide story)

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Thank u 4 the reads. (TheVoices, thank u 4 the vote n the comment. Update My Loving Rapist, plez) Okay, keep reading. Oh, this chapter is short but cute.

Song 4 this chapter is.... Stronger by Britney Spears

Everything has been going good for me this month. Its actually the best I've been in years. Heather Ryner hasn't bothered me in a while, but I know her far to well to get my hopes up, sooner or later the skinny bitch is going to claw my face with her perfect manicured nails. And her crazy boyfriend, Jordan Malik, hasn't tried anything, but I'm positive he will probaly throw a football at the back of my head one of these days. Yep, that's how cruel they are.

At least my step mom hasn't been giving me shit, but she has been stressing my dad. Lately my dad comes home and I'm suspecting its because he's been arguing with my step mom. Since my dad refused to buy her a real expensive ring because he said he wants to save some money for me to go to college for all four years.

I've been texting Adam though. He's actually really nice and always asks me how my day is. Adam just turned nineteen, so he's only about a year and a half older than me. I haven't seen him since that day in the cheap restruaunt and I secretly do want to see him. I might have to make an excuse to pass by there sometime later...

I was changing into my clothes in the girl's locker room after P.E when I heard that annoying, high pitched laughter. Heather Ryner stopp five feet away from me in a pink lace thong and push-up bra. "What are you doing here, emo bitch?"

What do you think? Oh, that's right, you can't. "Changing," I replied.

Heather put her hands on her hips. "Well, the boys' locker room is down the hall. I guess you got confused."

The other girls giggled as they changed. And one of the wanna-be-Heather bitches said, "Ew, like, what if she's a guy in diguise?" I don't know how that was funny but they all laughed, and another wanna-be-Heather bitch added, "Ew. I bet she pervs on us while we're showering." Another chorus of laighter. "You mean he," another girl chimed in. Another round of laughter and I had to resist the urge to laugh along with them.

I rolled my eyes as I adjusted my sweater when suddenly I was shoved into a locker hard. Heather stood above me, seething in fury, "Why aren't you crying?" Oh, so she teases me to make me cry, what could she possibly gain from that?

"I've cried enough, don't you think?" the words flew out of mouth before I could stop them. I mentally face palmed myself. Great, now I'll get beat up in the girls' locker room.

Heather stepped back as if I had just punched her (I would love to) and gaped at me. But she composed herself with a bitter laugh. "Oh, so you've had enough, huh, Miracle? Well, I don't think so. You could never have enough. You deserve everything comming towards you," she spat on my face. I crumbled in the inside a little. "You're living hell, and after you die, you're going to hell all over again. You deserve it.

"And now that we're talking face to face again, you know what?" she continued, trying hard to make me crumble into that shallow, weak girl that has swallowed everyone's insults. "You should be glad your mama isn't here to see you. She would be ashamed of her little ugly daughter, and maybe that's why she killed herself, you know. That piece of shit you call your mom couldn't handle living with your pathetic ass-."

Slap!

She flinched away from me, holding her cheek as she stared at me like I had grown five heads. I had slapped her and I didn't regret it. She had pushed me to the edge and I was sick of her.

I pointed a finger at her. "Don't. You. Ever. Talk. About my mother like that, you leech." Mocking and making fun out of me was one thing but dragging my mom into this was a whole different thing. I wouldn't let you bad talk about the woman who was there for me for nearly thirteen years. I wouldn't.