I swung open the car door, stepping out of the vehicle. I steadied myself, hoisting my bag onto my shoulder. I turned to the car to wave goodbye to my “mother” Steph.
See, Steph met my dad when I was 4, and she didn’t know I existed until they were married. She hated me, married my dad for his money, y’know?

Anyway, she always treated me like shit, hit me a couple times and told me I was worthless. Not exactly near winning any mother of the year awards.

I began to wave, only to see that her car had already sped off in the direction of the nearest watering-hole, most likely. I sucked up what little self-confidence I had inside me and stepped through the doors of Belleville High.

I looked around at the people who were moving like cattle through the halls, all of them in a rush of noise and golden unconsciousness as to what was going on in the worlds of those around them.

I made my way towards the school office, hoping to maybe avoid any complete academic failures on my first goddamn day. It took me a moment to realize how dissimilar I was to the sheep that flooded this place. Everyone dressed in either bright t-shirts and blue jeans, cheerleading get-ups and letterman jackets or skirts about as short as belts.

As I was walking, I looked down at myself. Black. Everything on my person was black. Even my underwear was black, and suddenly I felt like the needle in the haystack.

A fraying, faded black jumper with a couple of badly-stitched band logos courtesy of yours truly, a high-waisted black skirt over some very, very dark grey leggings and a pair of some old black work boots that I snagged from a building site. Jee whiz, what a goddamn fashionista.

The office was a drab room, really. Patronizing motivational posters and flyers were strewn about the walls, and a bitter-looking receptionist sat at the desk.

As I moved toward the desk, something distracted me. There was a commotion coming from behind me, when I noticed two boys being dragged in by a rather hefty-looking teacher.

Both boys were badly injured, the one with the red hoodie and an uneven tan had a puffy, bleeding eye and a bruised lip, and he seemed to be clutching his arm. But the other boy- Hell, the blood suited him.

He was pale, heavy-set rings under his eyes and untidy black hair covering his hazel eyes. I noted his t-shirt (Anthrax) and his ripped, black jeans that clung to his legs tightly.

He was absolutely gorgeous, and intriguing, too. He had very sharp features, and he was smirking beneath the blood pouring from his eyebrow and the purple bruise that lay on his cheek. I couldn’t help but stare, and I saw that he noticed. God, way to go, Lily. Totally not being obvious at all.

I managed to tear my eyes away just as he was carted off into some kind of separate office where he and the other boy were probably going to get in a heap of trouble.

I was snapped out of my trance by a cough from the receptionist, who then gestured me to come forward to her desk.

“You’re the new student, right? The british one? What was your name again..?” she asked.

“Lily. Lily Hanna” I responded. She nodded, pursed her lips and handed me a timetable and a map. I accepted the two, and shoved them into my bag.

I began to march towards the lockers, hoping to find a free one for myself, when something knocked me off my feet. I looked up to see three girls, all in nearly the exact same revealing outfit, staring at me with a seemingly unprovoked hatred.

“Wow, really? All this school can fucking muster up is another black-clad freak? Ugh, we already have a little team of wrist-slitting pieces of shit, we didn’t need anymore of you, yet here you are” said the girl standing in the middle, glaring at me.

I looked up at this girl, powerful in her heels and tank top. She stood as if she believed that she owned everyone and everything around her, and in that moment, I started to believe it too.

“My name is Christina, and if I see you hauling your skanky, disease-ridden ass anywhere I don’t want you, there will be blood, got it?” I nodded without thinking, followed by a swift kick in the throat from the girl to her left. They stalked off, leaving me winded and alone in a now empty corridor.

I got up to open my locker, which I found was directly next to the toilets, and opened it. I tossed in my books and the puffy jacket that was stuffed in my bag. I locked it and marched straight to the front steps, found a sheltered corner, curled up in my jumper and began to laugh, hysterically now that you think of it.

Again, again, again. Every single school, every single town and city, it’s all the same. I’m nothing. I’m a joke, I’m a flaw and I’m a scar that refuses to fade. I disgust everyone, but mostly myself. My laughter became less violent, and gradually got quieter until I was sitting in silence.

I felt some water roll down my face, and looked up to check for rain. But, there was no rain, and rain wouldn’t be that salty anyway. I was crying, and I didn’t even know it. I sat for a while, holding my gaze on a road sign in the distance, and wept silently.

Seemingly out of nowhere, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jerked up quickly, ready to strike, when I saw the face of the boy in black from the office staring down at me.

Notes

The next one will be longer, I promise! Please comment what you think, I'd be really grateful.

- Iris