Cruel Sanctuary

Chapter 22

People have always told me that when you're in education you cannot wait to leave but give it a few weeks and you will be begging on your knees to go back. I, for one, will not miss the shithole that they call 'school'. It is for education yet, somehow, there are always stereotypes, expectations, judges and bullies, all of which should be educated to a halt. It is a milestone to the 'real world' that the victims of said people wish they had never had to go through. 

The popular people, however, will always remember how not a bad word was uttered to them and they just simply sailed through school. They're the ones who will have it tough when we get out. It is a prison sentence just awaiting to end, really. 

My sentence ends today, Friday, my last day at the crappy school that I have endured for so many years. My exams finished mid-week; another so called 'milestone'. I am fairly certain that I have aced them but we don't find out for another three months or so. That's when we figure out what is going to happen with the rest of our lives. However, Owen and I have certain complications with that decision. 

Owen has been as fine as he could possibly be; still a class-A ass-wipe with no dignity or respect for anyone but himself but he's improving his manners towards me. Hopefully, he is catching on to the whiplash he is giving me with his constant mood swings. However, that is highly unlikely since his head is so far up his ass that he must be able to see the light of day from his mouth. 

Noah has been a constant shoulder for both myself and Emma which brings us both so much guilt since he has been placed over so much unwanted stress recently. He wants to go to a prestigious school so that he can become a doctor and help people but also bring in money for his family, too - these exams are crucial to him! I believe he'll pass with flying colours judging by  the amount of time he has spent revising. It would be devastating if he didn't get into medical school. 

Emma has been the complete opposite with her A-Levels, spending minimum time studying and has barely scraped a pass in most subjects, I bet. With being friends with her for most of my life, I expected nothing more, she's more of a 'live in today' kind of person but to each their own! 

In our last few days at school, I have made it apparent that I don't really give a flying fuck about the popular cliques; their heads could be boiled for all I care! In fact, they will be working minimum wage jobs and I don't even hope that for them, I know it will happen. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing the matter with minimum wage jobs but, for self-righteous fucks like themselves, you'd think they'd get better. However, karma is a bitch. 

As for myself, I have made quite the recovery so now I strut with my head held high in pride. I didn't let the rumours ruin my life! I even managed to stomach a McDonald's cheeseburger, although I will avoid that again for a while! I studied hard for my exams; six hours every day to be exact. Owen said that it was 'too much' and I was working myself 'too hard' for some 'stupid results'. 

"Skylar, what're you wearing to school?" Owen questions, storming into my bedroom like an elephant at the waterhole just as I am striding out of my bathroom, wrapped in a towel, rubbing the protein cream into my hair. Eyes wide in terror, I shriek at him and leap backwards as he begins to laugh, "Y-Your face!" he teases and I roll my eyes, slipping into my wardrobe and sliding on a dressing gown, proceeding to exit with a hairbrush. 

Scrunching my face up as my brush tackles my birds nest, I huff, "I don't know and why the freaking hell are you dressed already?" I ask, shocked at his enthusiasm for the day, "It's our last day in that shit pit, duh," he deadpans me, collapsing backwards onto my bed, sprawled onto his back like a starfish. 

I chuckle, parting my hair through the middle, "Should've guessed," I state as our conversation halts under the droning of my hairdryer, "Should I straighten my hair?" I ask him and he sits up, strolling over to me and inspecting my hair, weirdly, "What're you doing?"