The halls were silent as I made my way to class. I kept my head down, my chestnut hair covering my face slightly. When I made it to my class, music, I took a deep breath. I stepped inside, ignoring the lecture my teacher gave me about being late and simply giving him a nod, before sitting down at the back of the room. I heard people snickering at me, comments thrown from all directions.
"Fat"
"Ugly and pathetic"
"What happened, the bus driver thought you were too fat to get on the bus?"
I ignored them as best I could, focusing my attention to the front. We were sent to write song lyrics, and I stuck to my seat. I curled my legs to my chest, the open book laying beside me. I felt something hit my back, turning around I saw it was a rubber. I sighed to myself as another one hit me, I turned around, ignoring the class. It wasn't unusual for things to be thrown my way, especially in classes. I flicked mindlessly through my song book, just waiting until the bell rang. The second it did, I was out the door. As I was walking down the corridoor, I was pushed hard against a wall. My books fell from my arms, a mess on the floor by my feet.
"Hey loser" I heard someone smirk. I knew that voice, the voice of Michael Clifford. I looked up at him as he towered over me.
"What do you want, Michael?" I asked, trying my best to act confident, whilst pulling the sleeves of my hoodie down nervously.
"Fiesty are we?" he laughed, flicking a strand of my hair.
"Leave me alone" I said, bending down and scooping up my books.
"I'm late for Maths, but I'll see you later, freak." he smirked as I walked off. I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I wouldn't let him see my cry. I wouldn't allow him the joy of seeing how he hurt me.
My next class was maths, but I couldn't go. Michael and his partner in crime, Calum, sat either side of me, right at the back of the class. Going there would mean putting myself through pure torture for an hour. Instead, I walked round to the back of the school. There were no cameras, no people and no noise here to bother me.
I sat down on the tarmac floor, my back pressed against the cold brick wall. I was totally secluded from the rest of the world here, and that's exactly what I wanted. I put my headphones in, closed my eyes, and finally I was able to breathe.
+
My Mum smiled at me as I walked through the door after school.
"Hi Rose" she smiled, and I sent her a fake smile back.
"Hi Mum" I said, kicking my shoes off, watching as they hit the wall and landed on top of the ever-growing pile of other shoes.
"How was your day?" she asked.
"Great" I lied. She nodded, and I hurried upstairs so I didn't have to lie anymore. I locked my bedroom door and threw myself onto my bed, burying my face into the pillow. I was tired and upset, like every day. I decided a bath would be a good decision, so I sat up, grabbing some leggings and a jumper from the floor and went into the hallway.
"I'm having a bath!" I called through the house, but I got nothing back. Mum must have gone out.
I strolled into the bathroom and began to run the bath, not bothering to add any cold water. Placing my hand in it, I recoiled slightly at the burning sensation. I stripped off today's clothes, before sitting in the scalding hot water. As the water hit me, I laid back. I dipped my head under, staying there. Not long enough to kill me, just enough to make my chest tighten and my heart to beat like crazy. I sat up again, tears rolling down my cheeks, mixing with the water on my face. I brought my knees to my chest, resting my head on them. My whole body burned, but I focused on the pain. I felt my emotional pain slip away, being replaced with the burning. I looked to the side of me, spotting the razor beside me. With a beating heart, I picked it up. I closed my eyes as I brought it to my skin. The cold metal was soothing on my hot skin. When I opened my eyes again, the water around me was a soft pink. Blood trickled down my wrist, old and new scars littering it. As the blood rolled down my arm, I felt my problems slip away for a while.
"Rose, you in there?" I heard my Mum ask, causing me to throw the razor to the side and bolt upright.
"Yeah, give me a sec!" I called, hurriedly getting out and draining the bath. I got dressed, opening the door and rushing into my room before she could ask me any questions.
+
"Rose?" Mum asked, opening my bedroom door. I was sprawled across my bed, headphones in my ears.
"Yeah?" I said, pausing my music. She stepped inside, brushing her hands on her skirt, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle away. She was a perfectionist, she had been for a while.
"I got a phone call today, from your maths teacher. You didn't go to maths today. Or yesterday, or any day this week" she said, crossing her arms.
"Oh, I was studying, in the library." I lied. She stared me in the eye for a second, searching for the lie. Finally, she sighed.
"Well, next time don't miss it" she said, exiting the room swiftly. I sighed, rolling onto my back. I looked up at the ceiling, bringing my hands to my face in frustration. I hated them, I hated it.
My first chapter.. I need your opinions! Hope you liked it. Like I said, read India's books, this is kind of like Bully, her Luke fanfic. But her one is better :)
YOU ARE READING
Weightless - Luke Hemmings
Fanfiction"You're perfect, and it hurts to know you'll never see it" ***In which a victim and her bully feel more than just hate for each other*** ~Version 2.
