Stockholm Syndrome

one

Hi, my name is Riley. I'm your typical 17-year-old highschooler.

Tuesday, 27th March 2013, 8:16.

I put my dirty blonde hair into a messy bun and applied minimal makeup to my diamond shaped face. I went downstairs to the kitchen to get my mom to drive me to school.

"Good morning sweet cheeks, I made you your favourite breakfast: banana pancakes!" She said cheerfully — what a cheeky bitch.

"Thanks, it smells so good!" I replied as she was leaving the kitchen to go to the garage. Ugh, she doesn't understand that I can't eat breakfast. She thinks my depression is 'fake' :/ I grab the baby pink coloured plate with my three homemade pancakes on it, and throw it all in the trash can.

"Woah, you ate those pancakes fast. You must've been very hungry." She said with a grin when she came back into the kitchen. "I'm so sorry baby, but I can't drive you to school today. The car won't start for some odd reason."

"Oh, it doesn't matter mom. I can just walk to school..." I replied disappointed. 

I picked up my black and white checkered vans bag, put my old red converse shoes on that I've had since I was 13, and made my way to school. As I arrived at the first red light, the sky started to look dull. I felt a raindrop on my rosy cheeks. Ugh, that's all I needed this morning. Just as I began to roll my eyes, a can of vanilla flavoured Coca Cola hits my eyebrow. I dropped to the hard concrete ground. I took a glance up, and that's when I saw an orange Porsche pulled up by the sidewalk.

"Suck on this, sticky." I got screamed at. It was Samantha and her minions putting their middle fingers up to me. They're the head bitches of my school. They always have to be up my ass. 

"Do you need a hand?" A soft voice asked me as Samantha, and her girls drove away. I look behind me, and there's Brad. Brad is the perfect straight-A student who's always generous to everyone. I feel like the only reason he tries to make me feel included is to keep his reputation at the school good, not because he actually likes or cares for me.

"I'm good, yknow," I told him as I got up from the ground on my own. I'm not one of those näive girls who falls for a pretty boy's bullshit. I would instead consider myself as an independent woman. By the time I arrived at school, my hair was so soaking wet from the pouring rain that I needed to go to the girl's bathroom to fix up my hair. As I opened up the lime green coloured door to the restroom, my eye caught Samantha's face. Not.again. I have already had enough of her.

"Hey look, it's the lone-wolf Riley." She said to me.

"Why do you always have to mock me? What benefit does it even bring you?" I asked her, standing up for myself.

"We live in America. It's called freedom of speech. Google it, you noob." She laughed. I sigh and start ignoring her. I try to sneakily walk past Samantha to go to the sink mirror. Before I got to the mirror I was targeting; I violently fell onto the cold tiled floor. Samantha had just tripped me with her foot. I CAN NOT BELIEVE HER NERVES?! I looked up to her in embarrassment to see her annoying face laughing at me. I was on the verge of crying. I bet she's the reason I've had crippling depression for four years. I was at the point where I couldn't help but cry. As a little teardrop was travelling down my face, Samantha opened her mouth:

"Oh my god, is the baby crying? Do you want to go home to mommy now??"

"Maybe I will!" I exclaimed back at her stupid face. I get up, grabbed my checkered vans backpack, and ran out of the bathroom. I hid my reddened face with my backpack while walking over to the school reception.

"Are you doing fine, sweetheart?" The woman at the school office asked me when I entered.

"I'm having a bad day already, I have depression you know... Could I go home? I just got harassed." I said in a stressed tone. I could tell she began to feel guilty for me.

"Sure, only if a guardian has the ability to pick you up now." Ugh, I just remembered that my mom's car broke down this morning.

"Yeah, of course. I'll ask one of my family members." I said as I pulled my blue iPhone 5c out of the back pocket of my grey acid-washed jeans. I dialled my uncle's number and called him.

"Riley? What's up?" He asked in confusion.

"Yo, could you pick me up from school now? I've been having a bad day." I explained to him.

"I-I'm sorry Riley, I'm kinda busy. I'm at work; my client this time is Shawn Mendes!" He bragged. I can never know whether that man is joking or not. I glance over at the receptionist. She's smiling at me. I have to say something to make her think I'm getting picked up... I can't stay in school for another hour!

"Ooh, thank you. I'll see you then!" I lied over the phone.

"Are you getting picked up soon then sweetie?" The woman asked after I ended the call. I nodded to her with my usual charming smile, then sat down on the couches. I had to think of a plan to get out of this hell hole quickly. After 5 minutes of sitting on the couches, the office door opens from the outside by someone. As the person entered the room, I gasp in disbelief. Could my eyes be telling me the truth?!