Keep your head down. Don’t look anyone in the eye. Speaking will get you in trouble.
Just a few of the many things I had learned as a result of living in a state home for all thirteen years of my life. I know, orphanages are cliché, but they exist. The rules help as I walk down the hallway at school.
Two more hours. You can do this, Jemma.
It should have been easy enough. I’d been through years of this. But today, everything seems a lot more difficult. People laugh as I walk past them. Normally I’d assume they were laughing at something else but today the laughing only seems to start when I’m around. Good thing I’ve learned to ignore it.
As I pass yet another classroom on my way to the art studio, someone shoves me into the wall. My books fall but my voice fails me as I turn around, a phone being shoved in my face.
“Is this you?” Sasha demands to know. I quickly scan the screen and wonder why the most popular girl in school has a zoomed-in picture of me. I nod and she shoves me harder. “Why are you with my boyfriend?” She yells.
My mouth opens to protest until she zooms out of the picture, showing a candid photo of me sitting on a park bench with Chris. I can tell it’s photo shopped; the shirt I’m wearing in the picture is the same one I wore to lunch yesterday.
“That’s me, yes but... um... someone edited him there?” I try.
Sasha just shoves me and I fall sideways to the ground, catching sight of one of the other kids from the state home. He laughs and walks away with his brother and I know he did it. The fucker does anything and everything to get me in trouble, whether with the authorities or other kids.
Just like every other time, a hint of rage rises in me, but this time something feels different. It’s as if someone has poured hot water on my shoulders; the heat rushes down my body and moves towards my hands. Somehow I push it down and try to not make things look any worse as it subsides.
~
“You sent that picture to her, didn’t you?” I yell as I confront Gavin in the basement, where we’re least likely to be heard. I know it’s not smart to accuse him of this while his brother and his friends are here, but something in me has been dying to punch him all day. He just laughs.
“Of course I did, you retard.”
My cheeks burn. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s not like you’re passing any of your classes,” He says.
“It’s your fault!” I yell. “You’re the reason I can’t fucking pass!”
He feigns surprise. “No shit.”
“You’re the damn reason I can’t sleep at night. You’re the reason I wake up and want to cry. You-“
“I thought that was your brother’s fault,” he says just a little too innocently. “You know, since he disappeared on you.”
He crossed the line. I can feel the heat coming down my shoulders again. “Stop talking.”
“Or,” Gavin says, “it’s your fault. He didn’t want to take care of you.”
I cover my face. “Shut up!”
“He hated you. That’s why he left all those years ago and never. Came. Back.”
I scream and foolishly run at him, not caring if someone hears us. Gavin’s a fucking prick, but I never thought he’d stoop so low.
Ducking under his outstretched arms, my palms hit him straight in the chest. He falls backwards and his brother steps up and grabs my arm, flinging me at the wall. I cry out as my head connects with the pipe leading to the electrical box, which the father of the house forgot to close this morning after fixing a shortage. My hand slams against the open box and I can feel the tip of my finger brush against a bare wire. A jolt of power surges through me and the heat explodes, coursing through my body and shooting out my hands.
