I kind of started off this story in the middle, so I'm going back to the start. Well, actually it's like mid-begginning. This story isn't very organized, and I'm writing it really out of order, but anyway here's the part.
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“AGH!” I screamed, taking out my anger by slamming my fist into the wall. Bad idea.
“OWOWOWOWOWOWOW!!!! SHIT OW!” I screamed, hopping on one foot and trying to shake the pain out of my hand. I quickly went to lock my door, to make sure my dad didn’t come in, only to remember that these damned doors didn’t lock. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk to him, so I moved my dresser to block the door.
I collapsed on the bed that wasn’t mine, tired of holding it in, I let the misery have me. Silent tears ran down my cheeks and onto the pillow that wasn’t mine.
Suddenly I heard the doorknob jiggle, but it wasn’t the door that led to my hallway. I nearly screamed, until I remembered that there was a door from my room to the apartment next to us. I scrambled to sit up and wipe my cheeks with my hand, only to realize that was soaked too from washing the dishes. The door opened, and again I cursed the place for not having locks on the doors.
The door opened, and I could see a boy’s face peeking out, trying to look into the room without stepping inside. He was about my age, with short auburn hair and acne. He was shorter than me, and fairly skinny. Behind him, trying to push past him to get a look was another boy, with similar features, but he was taller and skinnier with messy black hair and glasses. They both had the same dark green eyes.
“Um…hi, uh I, um,” The redhead stumbles, starting to advance into my room, then suddenly stopping mid-step and holding his foot in the air a moment before placing back exactly where it had been originally, “Um I’m Marc, and this is my brother Paul. Uh, we heard you…um, sorry but we were wondering...are you okay?”
I almost laughed, they looked so awkward and embarrassed.
“Yeah, sorry, um,” Their embarrassment was contagious apparently. “I forgot that there was another room next to mine”.
“I-it’s okay. Um, is something wrong?” He asked.
I sigh, “Oh, it’s nothing, I just was mad at my dad because he dragged me all the way out to this boring, empty town, away from my boyfriend and my friends, all because he’s engaged to some idiotic slut bag”. I explained, unable to stop the single tear that came from admitting my misery aloud from making it’s traitorous escape down my cheek.
Paul suddenly pushed past Marc to sit next to me on the bed, with Marc quickly mimicking him on the other side of me. Paul put his arm around me and said softly, “It’s okay, it’s not so bad here. There is a nice park, and the school is really clean, and you’ll meet new friends, the people here are really-um, well…” Paul broke off from whatever he was about to say, and then realized with a flinch what he was doing. He awkwardly removed his arm and leaned away from me, becoming mute once again.
There was a tense silence for a while.
“I’m Amber by the way”
Paul perked up, “Oh! Like the color? Or like the rock?” He said, seeming to deflate as he neared the end.
I couldn’t help myself this time, and laughed. “I think it’s just like the name, no deeper meaning”.
“Marc means rebellious,” Marc exclaimed.
“Paul means small,” Paul quickly added, then frowned.
I laughed again, feeling a little better. “Do you guys go to Andrew Prep High School?”
They both looked down at their shoes and mumbled yes.
“What is it?” I asked, worried, “What’s wrong with the school?”
“Nothing’s wrong with the school, it’s the people who are wrong,” Marc said with a glare aimed at the wall.
I waited silently for him to go on. “They’re harsh. They don’t like things to change, and so they don’t. We were new kids three years ago, and after the first month they had made sure that we kept in the shadows and didn’t call attention to ourselves”.
“Who are they, and why do you let them?” I asked.
“We don’t let them,” Marc said angrily, “They made us. They are the students. The ones who have been together since preschool. It’s not just our grade too, it’s the entire school” Marc had an expression that clearly meant that he was done talking.
“What grade are you guys in?” I asked, trying to soften the mood.
“We’re sophomores,” Paul answered.
“Me too”
“All I have to say is watch out for Alexis,” said Marc, before standing up. Paul was quickly on his feet too. “Sorry for barging in. See you in school”
And they were gone.
