covered-up reality

Chapter 3 : Jason Beat Up

Cyrus pov :

So after I made a complete fool out of myself in front of the most handsome men I met in my life, I made it to class.

Super late!

I was fifteen minutes late. I didn't know what to say, so I just walked into class awkwardly and sat down. I haven't been late to class ever.

I was surprised my teacher didn't have a bitch fit like she you usually did.

Maybe it's because it the first day back or I'm the invisible kid that's always on time and gets good grades.

It felt like the day dragged, but eventually it was one of my favorite periods, lunch.

Even though I don't eat anything at school, I love lunch. I get to do nothing for an hour, just being by myself.

Most of kids go to the cafeteria and some sits outside on the grass, I don't really care, I'm not one of trees and grass and shit.

But my spot is on the school roof.

I don't know what it is about the roof, but it's peaceful. It's calming and...safe.

I know for a fact no one's going to look for me or will be able to find me is awesome.

This is my break.

It's not as long as I wanted it to be, but this hour every day, I'm thankful for it.

When I'm on the roof, I have no worries and nothing scares me.

I'm just Cyrus.

I'm not thee abused girl, not the girl that's gets bullied, not the broken and fragile girl.

I'm a strong WOMAN.

I don't do a lot on the roof, I just look over the town, do some homework and start on new activities so that in class I can just sit down and maybe have a short nap.

Not a deep sleep. I'll just close my eyes.

The teachers don't care about the kids at the back of the class, usually only the bad kids are that the back of the class so basically I sleep during my lectures.

I'm not a bad kid though, I do what I must and am always ahead of the teaches so why should I sit and listen to work I already did, finish and understand.

I don't like to think of myself as smart, just a bit more advanced than the others.

And even though I don't need a teachers guide, to explain anything to me, I'm not smart and clever.

The textbook explains everything perfectly well. The instructions are clear.

But because today is the first day back, I don't have any work to do so I pull out my scrapbook and my pen and start doodling small pictures.

As I'm sitting on the roof, doing my drawings I hear screams and shouts coming from thee ground floor.

I'm not one of fights and dangerous activities because of what happens to me, but I can't help wonder what's going on.

When I look down, I see the boy I bumped into on top of Jason, beating him up.

The boy I bumped into is obviously winning, his friends standing their with smirks on their faces while girls are screaming, crying for heaven knows why and guys not daring to pull or push him off Jason.

Even though I strongly dislike Jason, he doesn't deserve this.

I see Jason stop trying to fight him off and with one final punch the boy let's him go.

Jason lays unconscious will the I bumped into fixes his shirt and looks straight up at me and walks away.

How did he know I was up here?

I don't why, but I just had to sit down.

The way he punched Jason remained me of the way Rick would sit on me and punch me, in and out of consciousness. Not caring if ill die right there.

Killed by his own hands.

I don't know what took over my body, but my entire body started shaking, uncontrollable.

I needed my blade, water, anything to stop the shaking, but I couldn't do anything with my hands.

I don't know what to do or how to stop my body from shaking so I lay down on my back and close my eyes.

I take deep breaths and try to think of ways to calm myself down.

I think of my mother. How she sang to me at night and combed her fingers through my hair.

I didn't even know I was cryi g until I felt the tears wetting my ears.

I just wish j could hug her, tell her how much I miss and love her.

To tell her about how horrible it is without her here and tell her how difficult life is without. That I need her.

But I know, no matter how much I pray, cry, scream and beg for her to come back, she won't.

She's gone.

And that's the first time it clicked to me since her death, three years ago.