Abused

Chapter 2

His eyes locked with mine. I gulped slightly as I took every beautiful feature of him in. His brown messy hair had an 'I just woke up' sort of vibe. He had a perfectly carved jaw and every feature of his face seemed flawless. His black roundish glasses made him even more attractive, if possible. My eyes trailed down the rest of him. Needless to say, I had never been more attracted to someone in my life.

He coughed slightly and pulled his eyes away from me. A slow surge of panic rose in me. Why was he looking at me? Did he see my bruises?! Insecurities flooded my mind and my anxiety levels were getting higher.

I have panic attacks a lot. Its really bad and I'm usually all by myself when I have them. I dread them, the feeling of losing control over my body frightens me so much. I bit my lip and stared at my desk; counting to 10 in my head. I definitely did not want a panic attack in front of all these people on my first day of school.

"H-Hi everyone. I'm Mr. Harding, your English teacher. I obviously know some of you from last year but we have a couple of external students and some I've never met before. So it is lovely to meet you all." He continued to talk about what he's planning for the upcoming two years. Even his voice was perfect, his rich British accent could make anybody's knees weak.

I was slowly calming down, I opened my water bottle and sipped the cold liquid. I still couldn't get over him. He didn't have a stereotypical bad boy appearance, he looked like the sort of guy who you'd see in a cafe with a coffee and a book. He seemed gentle and caring. I sighed as I realized I had just spent 10 minutes drooling over him, I hadn't even talked to him. For all I know he could be a secret murderer! Why am I so weird?

He glanced at me again and I swear he blushed. No, I must be wrong. "So we are going to be studying poetry. Have any of you heard of Thomas Hardy?" He said, looking around the class for someone to raise their hand in acknowledgment. Thomas Hardy was my favorite poet, I absolutely adored his work but I wasn't actually going to admit that and talk to the entire class. I had to remind myself about my inability to talk like a real human.

"Come on people!" He seemed disheartened. "Well, we have a lot to learn then." He started writing on the board. Jack nudged me. I looked up at him in confusion, he slid over a note.

'How old do u think he is?'

I hadn't even thought about his age. I scribbled down '25 maybe?' A smile grew on his face.

'Perfect age for me' He wrote while giggling. 'That's a snacc right there.'

I giggled and nudged him playfully. He grinned at me. I've never met someone like Jack before, so carefree but at the same time so genuinely nice.

The lesson slowly drew to an end. "Class, I need to see a plan for this coursework by next week. Give it all you got and i'll help you from there." He smiles at us all and his eyes landed on me again. I need to go to a mirror and check the makeup. What if he's seen the marks on my face?

Jack and I were the last to leave. I could hear girls giggle about Mr. Harding. A pang of jealousy hit me, I cringed at myself. Jack had drama so he left; I went to the bathroom and checked my face, nothing. My makeup was fine, nothing was visible. Why was he looking at me? I stared at myself in the mirror. This whole thing made me more insecure. I looked closer at myself, there was so much id like to change.

I had art so I quickly walked down the hallway back into the art block. The classroom was small and there was actually quite a lot of students. I sat by myself at the edge of the table. I pulled out all my stuff and looked up at my art teacher, Ms. Potter, began talking.

She was cute and old. I have a soft spot for old people. My grandad was probably one of the best humans on earth, he had a heart of gold and he was like my best friend. He never really grew out of his childish manner, he was always joking with me. God, I loved him madly. I went to him about anything and everything. I think when he died, a part of me died with him. I could feel tears building up so I pretended to try and find something in my bag till I was okay again.

Ms. Potter gave us all drawing exercises, she wanted to see our ability. We were all drawing a glass of water. She walked around the classroom, complimenting everyone. She stopped at me. "Wow. Darling this is superb!" She smiled at me, blush started creeping up my face. "You are so talented. What's your name dear?"

"Primrose," I said only loud enough for her to hear, I was so nervous. "Th-thank you..." She asked to see my other work so I showed her a couple of pictures on my phone.

"Right my Darling, Primrose. And what a beautiful name I must add. I want you to start with oil paint. We must not waste time with a talent like yours." My cheeks had gone bright red. Everyone in the room was looking at me. Some of the boys were whispering and looking in my direction. My heart was beating so fast. I hated this. I wanted to leave. I'm not ready for school.

"Are you alright?" She put a hand on my shoulder. I tensed up instantly. She smiled sadly at me. She probably thinks I'm insane or something. I feel sick.

"Everyone, I haven't got time for you all to slack. Please get on with your work." She said sternly to the rest of the class and then turned back to me. "I'm going to grab you some paints."

She walked off. I definitely noticed the change in voice when she speaks to me rather than any other person. Her tone becomes soft and sympathetic. As much as I appreciated it, a part of me longed to just fit in like everyone else... just to be normal.

I pulled out my large art book and set it on the easel. The students were pretending to be preoccupied but I could tell they were watching me. Ms. Potter came back with a box of paint and paint brushes. I sketched out a picture of a girl, just a simple outline basically. And I worked out where I'd put my highlights.

People kept watching me. I was so nervous while doing it which meant I barely even put paint on the paper. The lesson ended and everyone filed out. Jack had messaged me that he forgot his lunch so he had to go get a lunch during the break, leaving me alone.

The art room was now empty. "C-can I stay during break please?" I said nervously, pulling on my sleeves as I talked.

"Of course you can Darling."She smiled genuinely at me. She continued to tap away at the computer. The 20 minutes passed faster than I wanted. Luckily I didn't have to pack up. I had another lesson of art.

She stood up and walked over to see what progress I had made so far. Her eyes widened. "Prim! You did all that in 20 minutes!" She was smiling as she looked closer.

"Th-the detail i-wasn't there. It's too s-soft. I need to work on it a lot more," I stuttered. Before she could say anything people started piling in again. Loads of people looking at my art. The sick feeling returned.

I picked up my paintbrush, trying to continue at the speed I was before. It wasn't happening. I was too nervous. Ms. Potter seemed to notice. She left the room.

"Babe that's beautiful." A boy said edging closer to me. He bit his lip as he looked at me up and down. I smiled nervously, tugging at my sleeves again. My heart was racing. I didn't like this.

"Prim, Darling." I looked up, it was Ms. Potter. "Grab your stuff and come with me."

What?! I felt so nervous. I quickly packed up, grabbed the easel and my art book and followed her out of the classroom. What was happening? My hands were shaking now and my heart was beating violently against my ribcage. I left the noisy classroom and walked into the hallway.

"I was telling him that I had a student which worked much better alone." She started speaking. I looked at her in confusion. 'He said you can use his room when he's not teaching."

I was still so confused, but I felt a rush of relief go through me. I got to leave all of those people. She pushed open the classroom door.

It was Mr. Harding's room.