The lonely ones

chapter two

It is the one class of the day I enjoy, Guitar. Mr.Hunt is passing back our presentation grades. When he gets to me he hands the paper upside down. But that's for kids who get a bad grade? I flip the paper over. I see a giant red F. Are you fucking serious? I worked so hard on that CD! Great, just what I needed, another F. I sit blank and pissed during the rest of class.

When the bell rings I snap out of my thoughts and march up to Mr.Hunts desk. I am in a special bitch mood today and this didn't help. I slam the paper on the table.

"What the hell is this Mr.Hunt?" I practically yell.

"Well, that would be an F, Samantha."

Well no shit, I tell myself.

"I worked so hard, why did I get an F!"

"Maybe it was so good it was bad."

I was so confused, what the hell was this smurf trying to tell me?

"Ugh I give up!" I groan and storm out.

Welcome to the life of Samantha Greene, isn't it great? Oh lunch time, my favorite. My favorite part is sitting by myself at the "Loser" table while people laugh at me. At least my middle finger gets some exercise. I sit down minding my own damn business and one of the cheerleaders walks over and starts her shit. I wasn't having it today. I grabbed her ponytail and slammed her face into the table. When she fell over I kicked her once more in the face and turned around and walked away. All the guys were cheering. "Ooooh-ing" and "Ahhhh-ing" at what I had just done. Walking out I could have sworn I saw Blake smirking at me. But, that couldn't have been... could it?

I was snapped out of my daze by Principle Sanders smashing his fist into the table.

"Samantha are you listening?!" He yelled.

"Nope." I stated.

"Samantha, this is the fifth time.. this MONTH. This needs to stop!"

I roll my eyes, I know the deal by now.

"Three days or five?"

"Three." Mr.Sanders says.

"Cool, thanks." I say dismissing myself.

When I get home I sit in the driveway for a second. Dads car is gone. He will be so pissed if he finds out I got suspended, again... Ugh Sammie. Why am I such a fuck up?! I go inside and pack a few bags. I can't face my dad. I grab a bottle of tequila from dads "secret" alcohol cabinet and head out of the house. I start driving to the only place I know where to go. The farm. I go to the guest house immediately, no one ever goes in there. I throw all my stuff on the floor and sit down on the bed. Shit, I say to myself. I unpack all my stuff and open the bottle of tequila, tears flowing almost as fast as I could take another shot, and thats all I remember.

I woke up and looked at the clock. 12:36. I wonder if dad noticed I was gone, probably not. I should go home for dinner tonight. I am gonna stay here during the day for the next three days. I decide to take a shower and clean up the guest house a little bit. I look at the clock, 3:15. I should head home for a little.

I walk in the door and dad is sitting on the couch. With a glass of whiskey. Shocker.

"SO.. how was school today?" he asks with suspicion.

"Good." I lie through my teeth.

"Thats not what the machine said! again Sam really? You are such a fuck up!" He yells. Tears form.

"You lied Sam! you know what happens when you lie!"

"No!" I scream.

He smashes his glass and punches me in the face. I fall over and he gets on top of me and continues to beat me up. I am trying to get away but am not strong enough. I am bleeding. I pick up and lamp and smash it over his head. He falls over. I see blood coming from his head and he isn't moving. I am so scared, so I do what I do best. I run.