Secrets.

Unfair (Part 1)

Brief note: I'm new to this site so comments and suggestions of what I should read would be appreciated. Thanks guys! ^_^

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Chapter 1

I always believed that my future was dark; an endless pit of death and despair. I had lost so much over the course of my youth that I felt that life held nothing more for me than the pain and bitterness I had grown accustomed to. I couldn't accept the happiness that I saw in other families because within my own, there was an absence of such. Not only that, but a lack of family also. We were just people in a house; the remnants of a broken home. I was so alone, secluded by everyone because I was 'different.' I knew, even then, that it was not all my own fault. The other children led different lives. They had so much joy in their eyes, I wonder if the fear and misery shone from mine... 

I would never wish my past on my worst enemy. No child should have to go through it. Yes, I believe kids have some resilience to trauma but no word of a lie, it changes them. I think it changed me. I can't be positive for obvious reasons; all of the problems started when I was very young. I can't remember a time beyond them. And that was an unhappy period for me. Screaming, yelling, violence and cold, menacing laughter... It doesn't bear thinking about.

All of these thoughts run through my mind at the strangest of times. It overwhelms me to the point of tears. One minute, I'm in working at something or other and all of a sudden, one of those damn thoughts pop into my head. My eyes water and when opening them as wide as I can doesn't work, I end up trying to unnoticeably wipe them dry with my sleeve (which doesn't really work out either) and keep a straight face. I end up simply saying, 'My stomach hurts' just to keep face. Seriously, it isn't fun to feel everyone's eyes on you when you're uncomfortable. And it's strange just how easy it is to cover up how you're truly feeling on the inside. Too easy. I suppose bad memories affect everyone but for some reason I have yet to see anyone who struggles with theirs like me. But it is an inner struggle so I guess that's the reason.

Right now, my hateful teacher was standing over me, talking at me. More than ever, I despised her. She hadn't noticed that I was upset. This woman had not a thought in her head for anyone but herself. She adored inflicting misery, making her students cry. But the manipulative cow would then act all nicey-nicey, confusing the situation. I glared up at her. She was going on about how she expected better of me, that my work wasn't good enough, that I was letting myself down, etc. It was her next sentence that made me snap. 'What'll be waiting for you after school if you can't even get this much right? I'm only telling you this for your own good!' Ha! I knew exactly what was waiting for me after school. I stood up suddenly, startling her but she quickly composed herself and told me to sit back down. I barely heard her. I looked her in the eye, hatred clear on my face, and screamed at her. The room went quiet. I picked up my books and stomped out of the class, gritting my teeth. 

I didn't want to go home yet. I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to do. I couldn't even think why I had gotten so angry. Looking back at it, I felt foolish and ashamed. I made my way over to the park and found a bench to sit down on. I hadn't really noticed what direction I had been walking in. I unzipped the front pouch of my bag and pulled out my bottle of water. I gulped it down, feeling the cool liquid trickle down my throat. The sky was a bright blue with only wisps of clouds marring it. Gradually it became tinted a primrose pink. Sparrows soared, only to land in the trees. I sighed, knowing that it was time to head home.

My mother wasn't home which was a very good thing. As soon as she got home, she'd be yelling and screaming. That could wait. It was only January so it we were still having a cold spell. Reluctantly, I set about lighting the fires. It took a while to find a lighter. The table was extremely cluttered with all sorts. Pens, newspapers, wrappers, clothes, boxes, papers, millions of tablets, bottles of medicines and some food. I sighed. I'd only cleared it off three days ago, but with her, it was a record for it to be this tidy. With the fires sorted, I set about making something to eat. The cupboards were pretty bare; not much else besides spices or seeds and such. I located a few tins of tuna and sweetcorn. I took out the wok and dropped the tuna and sweetcorn into it, adding some spices to it. I wished that the fire in the stove would hurry up and light; the oven in the gas cooker didn't work and was only good for boiling or frying. I knew my mother would be hungry but I didn't see any reason for making her anything when god only knows when she'd be home. I idly wondered if she would come home. If I had a car or somewhere to go, I would be out of here in a heartbeat! No question. Sadly, I was not in that situation. Sadder still, I knew she'd come home.