SOLD

Chapter One

I was always a normal girl. At school I was bullied for being a nerd (yes I wear glasses and read John green novels 😔😔 I just don't fit in) and for being clumsy—seriously I can't see a table without walking into it! I never let it show through my quirky demeanor while at school, but my home life was even more hell than my school life. My mother was addicted to vaping. Our entire house was constantly filled with the smoke clouds from the fat vapes she would rip. She sold everything I owned in order to purchase more vape pods specifically the fruit flavored ones. I thought it had hit an all time low when she sold my most prized possession, my yellow ukulele that I played  twenty one pilots songs on, to buy a bedazzled  vape pen, but I quickly discovered that that was only the beginning.

The worst day of my life started like every other day that week and every other week before it: my mom woke me up at 5 AM to kick me out so she could throw a vape party with her friends. I pulled my wavy brown locks into a messy bun and walked to the bus stop and lay there like a woman in a coma until the bus arrived at six. The bus driver honked at me until I woke up and then I climbed on the bus where all the kids laughed at me. As I walked down the aisle, I could hear the snide remarks and whispers. The loudest of all of the kids was the most popular boy at my school, Louis Tomlinson. As I walked by he threw a used vape pod at me and yelled, "why 'on't you give 'hat ta your mum!" 

The rest of the day was pretty much the same. Louis and his friends jumped at every opportunity they could find to make fun of me. If only they knew the hardships I went through at home, then they wouldn't laugh. Sure, they knew my mom had a vaping problem, but they didn't know the extent of her addiction; how we often had to go without the vegan frozen yogurt bars that I love so much, how I couldn't even afford the $120 Gucci Mémoire d'une Odeur perfume advertised by world famous model and pop star, Harry Styles. How was I supposed to transcend gender and explore the power of memory without it? I'm sure Louis could afford it and I'm also sure he would take pity on me if he the pain I'd experienced. A single tear rolled down my cheek as I thought of my yellow ukulele. 

At lunch, I found my best friend, Naill Horan, sitting by himself in the corner. Niall, as an Irish person, is treated awfully by our British classmates. Ever since the late fourth century when Saint Patrick brought Christianity to Ireland, the British have been treating Ireland horribly. Today, even though Ireland is an independent nation, the British government refuses to take it seriously and even continues to control North Ireland despite it being, well, part of Ireland. At our school, this is reflected in the attitudes of our classmates. As I sit down at the table, carrying my vegan lunch of two leaves and a tree branch I found outside, I smile at Niall. He slides a pamphlet across the table.

"Me an' the lads are goin' ta a protest fah Scottish Independence aftah school, wantta come?" He asked in his thick Irish accent.

I pushed a loose strand away from my blue visual organs--Niall has the same blue eyes as me, so it's difficult to know which one of us is supposed to be the main love interest--and sighed, "I don't like getting involved into politics. I'd rather just be happy, you know?"

"'Avin' a crack, are ya?" He started to say, but at that exact morning a bird flew into the cafeteria and Niall left in a panic. I sighed and pushed my leaves around my lunch tray; why must everyone leave me? 

As I was rightfully feeling sorry for myself, a call came over the PA system, "Dewberry Fruit Jones please come to the front of the school." 

I stood up from the table, tossing my uneaten food in the trash. It was probably about my mother as she was always calling upon me at the school when she ran out of the money she needed to buy vape pods. Five minutes later, as I rounded the corner towards the front office, my suspicions were confirmed: my mother was standing in front of the main doors arguing with the principal. I drew nearer and my mother spotted me.

"Dewberry! Dewberry! You're coming home with me." She called, shoving the principal to the side and pulling me out of the school building towards her car, "I've got plans for you."