The Secrets of Smosh (Maricorn)

Chapter 3 Mari

"AKI! NO! DAD STOP! NOOOOO!" He whirled around and stared at me. I didn't hesitate I started running. I run into the protective embrace of my mother. But this is different, now she's not safe anymore, of course, she wasn't the first time. My dad menaces towards us. He wields the knife and brings it to my mothers head.

My eyes snap open. The light is blinding at first. I adjust to it. I always do. Some guy is leaning over me. "Who-?" I started. "I'm the guy who ran you over with my bike," he said. I studied his face closely, it seemed humorous when it should be apologetic. He was definitely older than me, not by much because I thought he was kinda hot. "Yeah, thanks for that by the way," I muttered. "I'm David. Pleased to meet you," he said cheerfully. Is this kid for real. "I'm Mar-" "OH MY BABY!! Oh my goodness! What happened?" My mother just walked, ran in. She threw herself onto me. "Mom, you're gonna kill me, get off," I choked out. She retracted away from me. The light in the hospital room shone on her face and made her scar very prominent. The one on her heart was even more obvious, especially now. "When thy called me, I couldn't have even imagined what had happened. If I had lost you-..." She couldn't go on. I noticed that that kid, David had left. "Well Ms. Takahashi, looks like you can go home, nothing physical whatsoever. For at least the next year," some solemnity sounding doctor announced to anyone in the room who cared. "Great." I hopped down from the bed and walked out. I can't stand it when my mother cries. Like I understand why, it's just hard to watch. I also understand why we had to move, I just really hated this place as much as the last one. What it had become.

The next morning, I still had bandages wrapped around my head. I looked fucking stupid. "Mom! I can't show up on the first day of school like this!" I yelled. Ow, that actually, kinda fucking hurt. Won't do that again. Hiro was scarfing all the frozen waffles. "Wow, leave some for the concussed why don't you," I complained. "You look stupid," he said through a mouthful of waffle. Disgusted, I turn away. I go to the bathroom and set to work on cleverly using a big woolen headband to conceal my bandages. It'll do. I'm sure it'll be the envy of every 15 year old teenage girl. I step out my back door, umbrella in hand, California clothes confidently on. I place my foot onto the boardwalk, steering clear of all bicycles.

I stand in front of Lincoln High. My school is huge. That's a lie, an understatement. It's a 6A school. I walk down the main drag that's lined with lockers slamming, opening, stuffed and congregated around. "Hey! Deadhead!" Some kids. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I spun around. It was David. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "Um, school," I responded with an edge of duh. "Hey, did you call me Deadhead?" I asked. "Yeah, heh heh," he put his hand on the base of his neck, "that was me." "Do not call me that, I don't want it to stick," I said lowly. "Hey, I hope I'm not being too forward here, but can I have your phone number?" David asked. "And what direction forward are you planning on taking?" I asked smartly. "Oh you know, the road less traveled," he said even more smugly than me. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I threw back. He slipped his arm around my shoulders and spun me around. "You should be grateful I ran you over, together we will take this school this year," he said really theatrically. I raised my eyebrows in his direction. "You on drugs kid?" I asked him. "The names David," he said. Fuckin weirdo. I walked off to my first class.

I had band first. I play the flute. Since it's the first day of school, we are doing chair placing tests. There's at least 20 people in my section when I'm used to 8. I wind up in first flute anyway. That's great.

After school, I walk outside the front entrance. I plug my headphones in and flick on Pandora. "Centuries"
by Fall Out Boy starts playing. Definitely adding those lyrics to my book. I started towards the nearest the light rail station which was Kings Hill. I was suddenly facing the other direction. "Hey, do you want a ride home?" asked David. I should've known. "The Max is literally right there. I don't need a ride," I dismissed. "You know, you wouldn't have to walk the few blocks through the big, scary city," he teased. "You couldn't even make it out your back door." "I'm sure I'll manage," I said haughtily. To be honest, I've had it with dating. In that sense, I'm glad I moved. I had just broken up with my boyfriend Jake. He was so invested in the relationship, really intense. It was almost terrifying. So I broke up with him. He went kinda weird after that. He kept texting me so I changed my number. I'm just glad I got out of there, but I left everything else behind. But we had to leave. Violence flashed across my vision and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory.