Cruel Sanctuary

Chapter 1

"I do," I speak, facing the altar and the person beside me repeats after me, I turn to smile at him but gasp in horror at his face, covered by a black hoodie, "Who are yo-WAKE UP, SKYLAR!" A booming voice yells and my ears buzz as white light takes over my vision. I sit up in my soft, spongey bed and rub my eyes as they adjust to the piercing white daggers thrown by the sunlight that beams through the gap between my curtains.

"Jeremy, what do you want?" I groan, pushing him away with my finger on his forehead. Jeremy is my twenty year-old brother and one of the most supportive people ever. He's still living with us because he can't afford to move away for University and his jobs don't tend to stick with him unlike the smell of his odour. The Greene family aren't very well off so we struggle financially although we are very thankful for the fact that we don't allow money to rule our lives. 

Today is the first day of my last year in Sixth Form and Jeremy revels in the fact that he doesn't have to endure education anymore and we cannot afford to send him to university. Everybody knows that I hate school purely because of one person. Owen Anstey; the biggest asshole in my year but no one sees it! Have you ever had that one person in your year group that everyone adores but you're the only person who knows what they are really like? For example, a boy (specifically named Owen Anstey) that just happens to be the most admired person in your year but he is such an ass because he knows he is better than you and reminds you of it every fucking day!

"Can't you just tell mum and dad that I'm sick?" I moan as he drags me out of my bed, "No, Sky, you need education so you can get on my level!" He insists and I choke a laugh, "What? I need an education to be a couch potato?" I ask him as he follows me out of my room and into the bathroom. Jeremy scoffs, "Excuse me," but I slam the door shut in his face and lock it.

"Take your nose out of my life and focus on your own!" I shout through the door and begin my morning routine.

***

"Hurry yourself up, Skylar!" My dad shouts up to me as I tie my laces to my old vans that I've owned since I was fifteen. I could never forget the ecstatic feeling that I felt when I ripped open the colourful wrapping paper to reveal a box with a Vans logo printed onto it. There was not a doubt in my mind that they had been the reason for my father's extra shifts at work, but I was grateful all the more. I didn't even care what was inside! 

"I'm coming, Dad!" I call as I run down the stairs, throwing my backpack onto my back as I pass my mum, "Bye, Sweetie!" My mum waves us off, "Have a good day, Peter!"

Once I am hauled into the passenger seat of our rickety car, I sigh in relief as I shove my backpack into the footwell in front of me, the zips scraping off the dashboard as my dad shoots me a disapproving look but begins to drive as soon as my seatbelt clicks in, "Sorry you had no breakfast, kiddo, we're all out at the moment. You understand, right?"

"Of course, dad, it's okay," I reply, clutching my stomach to prevent the loud growling from reaching my father's ears. Eventually, we pull up at my dreaded school, "You have a good day, okay, kiddo?" He concludes and I grunt as I get out of the car and he drives off.

Reluctantly, I step through the bustling school gates and am immediately ambushed by so many different scenes: Year Seven students rushing around trying to find their way around, their heads low so they don't get picked on. Year Eight students strutting around as if they own the place, just asking to be hit. Year Nine kids slobbing around, girls' skirts hitched high and boys as frustrated as ever. Moody Year Tens comparing revision notes for their harsh journey ahead as they scatter around, some not caring but the majority eager to do well. The dreaded Year Elevens towering over everyone else, already visibly and mentally preparing themselves for their GCSE exams.