The Oak Tree And The Shotgun.

Chapter 6

Jackie's POV

Fucking idiots. Who do they think they are? What am I kidding? They're the people who proves that reality will never give you a breather from life.

I sat I the corner of the library until school started and then I started my day.

*Later, back home*

I sat on the sofa and sipped my black coffee while reading a magazine. I realised that the people who publish these things put so much useless knowledge in them. They do have somewhat a few tips and knowledge to feed readers on the other hand.

"Jackie, x plus two is the same as x squared right?" Izzie asks for the third time.

"For the third time, no." I replied.

"Shut the fuck up both of you." My dad answered and reached for a can of beer just to find that it's empty.

"Jackie go get me a fucking beer." He threw the empty can on the floor.

"You've had more than enough" Izzie with her big mouth replied.

"Who the fuck are you to tell me huh?" He just looked at her.

"Sorry. Geez" she went back to doing her work and the lump I didn't know I had in my throat fell.

I got his beer and gave it to him and that was when my mother came in. 9pm, right on time. Izzie jumped up and hugged her, and I helped her with the groceries. Kissing her cheek and greeting her.

"How was your day?" She asked us, my dad didn't reply.

"It was great and yours mummy?" Izzie waited, holding her hand.

"it was tiring my angel." My mother kissed her head. Then nodded at me when I didn't answer.

"Well. I'm off to bed. I brought pizza for you to eat." She winked at Izzie and Izzie came to get her piece as I dished out.

My mother left to bed and my father continued to watch sport. I ate and put Izzie to bed after washing her and then I washed myself.

I sat in the bathtub looking at the hand bruises on my wrists. I wonder if it'll ever stop. If I should tell anyone. Mum maybe? She probably already knows most of the story. I shouldn't, she works too hard. But I still wonder. I put my fingers over each bruise pretending it was my hand print clasping my wrist and after my bath I made my way to bed.

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Aaron's POV

I woke up in the middle of the night. It's 2am. My dream was about her. She was walking by while people threw apples at her and she continued walking. I was driving up beside her but I didn't stop even if I wanted to. Even when her head started to bleed after she fell to the ground because of all the apples being thrown at her. I didn't stop.

I made a promise to myself that later today, I'd stop and offer her a ride. Clearly it's affecting my subconscious.

I went back to sleep.

********************

*Later*

Jackie's POV

I started my way down the street with Izzie in front of me. After yesterday I just want to not be seen by anyone. I still felt humiliated because of it all

After I dropped Izzy off a vintage Ford Mustang slowed down beside me and my heart raced like I was stuck in a wild fire.

He was just.. looking at me. Contemplating something before he finally croaked out.

"Would you like a ride?" He spilled the words like some accident.

"no. I'm fine." I said and started to walk faster. And faster and faster. Till I basically ran myself to school.

I decided that today I'd take a different route to avoid those bastards.

Rag doll. I scoffed.

But yet to my surprise the idiots caught me in the hallway. It felt like my heart was stuck in my throat and my palms were sweaty but i gripped hard and looked down, my one hand beside my and mu other clutching my red scarf.

"Hey Rag Doll! We should find you a new name shouldn't we? How do you like.. Dilly? Short for dildo. Or maybe... Lube? Lube Dilly. You know.. cause your pussy would be a nice dildo with lots of lube on if you let me tap that." The blonde boy laughed at me and played with my hair while the Asian dude watched him. Then he sniffed me and the Asian dude laughed.

"Mmm. You smell good Lube Dilly. Hope you smell this good for the rest of the day." He winked at me and kisses my cheek. When they walked past one of them slapped my ass and the other praised him.

My heart, the thing in my chest thats nothing but a noun, once again broke. I honestly don't understand how people can laugh at other people's suffering and how they can let people get tortured in a dehumanizing way it's honestly brutally disgusting if you ask me.

Another thing I can never understand is that my heart has been shattered, torn, stepped on, stabbed, burnt, buried, but every single time something stupid like this happens, the feeling comes back all at once in this big rush like paparazzi.

But i keep a poker face and walked on toward my locker. When I got there something smelt horrible. It smelt so sour and.. it smelt like vomit and horse shit and my heart dropped because every book i own right now was in there. Except for the one i had in ky bag of course.

When I opened it there was green slime every where and all of a sudden green stuff shot from a packet onto my scarf. Some people complained and closed their noses. Others laughed. But most walked away except for one. He we standing about 6 lockers away from me.

When we locked eyes I felt like a hurt puppy and i looked back to my locker, with slight tears in my eyes.

Please don't try and talk to me.

I took my books out and started wiping them. He walked straight past me. I put my head against the locker and breathed out so i wouldn't cry. A small part of me would've liked if he tried to help but oh well. Be careful what you wish for i guess.