Saved by the Way (SLOW REVISIONS)

Chapter 2

The sounds of Jazz erupting from the band room was absolutely perfect.  I felt at home in the band room.  Mikey had introduced me to a few of his friends as well. There was Ray,  who had a gigantic Afro and played guitar,  there was the short kid named Frank who played saxophone, and Bob who played drums.

All of them were welcoming towards me, But you can't be in the band room forever.

The bell rang and I found my way to English.

English was always one of my better subjects. I enjoyed putting together words. But for some reason, I was nervous for this class.

I walked in and the teacher immediately gave me a dirty look.

"Great another one of those emo scumbags. I have enough of them in my classes." she muttered. She failed miserably at attempting to keep those words from hitting my ears.

"What's your name child?" the teacher finally spoke up.

"Scarlett" I replied with a shakiness in my voice.

"Go sit in the back with Gerard." she practically yelled. "Then you won't hold back the beautiful minds of the other children." she muttered that last part.

Gerard had messy black hair and hazel eyes. I liked it.  He seemed nervous and didn't look at me when I sat down. He didn't even speak to me. I noticed a paper sitting in front of him with lines from a poem or something.

It was titled Cemetery Drive . What a peculiar name. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander down the page.

This night, walk the dead
In a solitary style
And crash the cemetery gates.
In the dress your husband hates
Way down, mark the grave
Where the search-

"Hey!" Gerard whisper yelled. "That's private!"

"I'm sorry,  but it's a beautiful poem." I replied as innocently as possible.

Gerard smirked. "Thanks,  but it's not a poem, they're song lyrics." he said as if I were an idiot.

I decided to ignore him.

Finally, it was time for math.

I walked into the class to find that we had an open seating arrangement for math, but unfortunately, there wasn't anybody I knew. I sat in a lonely corner until some blonde girl with curly ringlets, a short dress, and high heels walked by me.

"Ew another anorexic, emo scumbag!" she yelled.

"Leave her alone Taylor," some kid groaned.

"No I won't leave her alone until she kills herself and gets the fuck out of my life!" so the preppy girl's name was Taylor.

"Ms. Swift,  would you mind sitting down and allow us to begin class?" the teacher asked calmly.

"Yes I do mind. Emo scumbags like her deserve to be out on the streets getting raped and going through all the pain they deserve.  They don't deserve to be here and I hate them.  I want them all dead and buried six feet under where I walk. In fact, I'm too good for them to be underneath me. Why don't we just burn them all so we don't ever have any remnants that they were alive!" Taylor was screaming now.

I wiped a tear from my eye. I wasn't good enough and I never would be.  I did deserve rape. I always knew I had asked for it.

After the little moment of silence, the class suddenly started clapping.

I just jumped up from my chair and ran out of the class only to hear bursts of laughter coming from the room.

I spent the next four classes in the bathroom with my blades.

I didn't want to miss Guitar, so I cleaned myself up and went to class.

Turns out Ray, Frank,  and Gerard are taking guitar too.

So is Taylor.

I sat in between Ray and Frank. Taylor walked into the class almost late and stopped by me. "YOU AGAIN?!" she shouted.

I kept my eyes down on the floor and she continued to yell. "I bet you can't even play guitar. I bet you can't do anything scumbag!" I just sat and listened.  I let the words pierce my heart and Ray, Frank, and Gerard just sat there staring.

I didn't walk out of the class this time.  But I didn't want to go to my next class.  I was going to sneak out to my car and go home.

Finally the class ended and I got up to leave. As I stood up, Gerard walked over to me and without a word,  palmed me a piece of paper.

I put the note or whatever it was inside my pocket and left the class.

On my way out, Mikey found me. "Hey where have you been Scarlett?"

"I'll tell you about it later, Mikey."

"Hey how about you text me about it, here's my number," Mikey said as he passed me a note.

Does he just keep his number on a piece of paper and pass it out to people? But OK.

"Alright, talk to you later Mikey!"

We split ways and he heads to class while I head home.