The World is Ugly

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I groaned and slapped my hand against the nightstand in an attempt to silence the alarm clock. Hit the corner instead. After about 5 tries I had finally slammed the "OFF" button. I sighed. First day of my sophomore year. At a brand new school. In a brand new city. I got out of bed and glanced at myself in the mirror. I had forgotten to take off my eyeliner last night and if smudged all over the place. I couldn't help but smile, I practically looked like a raccoon.
I made my way downstairs and found my mom placing a plate covered with scrambled eggs on the table. "Oh, honey, you're awake. Good morning," she told me. I grabbed the plate and say in front of the TV. I watched the news every morning. Pretty lame, but hearing about stocks and studies and crimes genuinely interested me. I found I had finished the eggs in like, two minutes.
As I threw away the plate (we're very ghetto, we've used pretty much only plastic cups and plates and utensils since the move in July) I thought of how today might go. Maybe I'd run into the cute jock and fall in love, like in the movies. I snickered. God, that would be so cheesy. I ran back to my room, eager to get ready for the day.
My closet did have much variety. Mostly black and some musician merch. Marina and the Diamonds, Florence + the Machine, Charli XCX, Sky Ferreira. I grabbed the Charli shirt and some jeans. I changed into them as quickly as possible and put on some plain black canvas shoes. Let's just say I like the color black. I'm not goth or emo or any of the ones you're categorized as when you wear black, I just think it's pretty much the only color I looked good in. I brushed my hair and started putting on makeup. I had probably the least steady hand ever and regretted it I fucked up the wing of my eyeliner, but whatever. I grabbed my backpack, phone, and earbuds and glanced at the clock. How the hell was it already 6:50? I woke up at 5 AM! I kissed my mom goodbye and stepped into the cool air of September of New Jersey.

We moved here at the end of June. My mother had divorced my dad and got in a huge custody battle with him. My mom won and decided the best thing to do was move to another state, start s new life. Why New Jersey? I honestly don't know. She said I had relatives here but I haven't met them yet. I remember my dad threatening to kill me and my mom our last day in Portland. I sighed. I'd lived in Portland all my life. I missed my friends. But I suppose this was a good thing. A completely clean slate.

As I walked to school, Marina Diamandis's beautiful voice drifted through my ears.

Oh, you are embarrassed of me
'Cause I use my tongue freely
Bet you wish I couldn't speak
'Cause when I do, y'know, I'll tell you why you appear weak
You want a hassle-free life? Go get your upperclass wife
She's got all the personality of a lemon that has been truly sucked dry!

God, Marina was wonderful. She helped me through the constant fights with my parents during the divorce. She was my idol. Then, I noticed a shadow cast on the sidewalk. I looked up and saw a girl carrying books. I had been so absorbed in the sidewalk and Marina's singing that I had almost completely missed the school. Belleville High. I put on a brave smile and walked through the doors.

I felt all eyes on me. There were whispers and murmurs. I kept smiling. This always happens to new kids. It happened at Northwest. Thankfully, the office was situated right near the front door. I approached the secretary and asked in the sweetest voice I could muster (didn't want to offend her on the first day of school), "My name is Rose Harley. I'm new here. Where are the schedules?" Without even glancing at me, she pointed towards a woman in the back of the room with a large sign next to her that read, "SCHEDULES HERE!". God, was I unobservant. I thanked the secretary and walked up to the schedule lady. "Name?" she asked. "Rose Harley." She began to rummage through a stack of papers. She was very pretty, not older than 25. She pulled out one and handed it to me. "Welcome to Belleville High. I'm Mrs. Olsen. It appears I'm your homeroom teacher, for honors history." I shook her hand. "Would you like any help in finding your classes?" I simply shook my head no and she smiled. Looking at my watch, I realized it was almost 7:30. I wanted to have a basic knowledge of where my classes were before the day started. I thanked Mrs. Joy and hurried out if the office.

God, did I regret not getting help for my classes.

The school didn't look very big from the outside, but apparently was a fucking labyrinth. I spent a good 20 minutes looking for Mrs. Joy's classroom alone. I found myself on the third floor of the school when the bell rang. Her room was on the first floor. Shit. I hurried down the stairs. While frantically running looking for classroom 245, I ran into a student. I felt a warm liquid soak my shirt. I looked up and saw an angry what I presumed to be a jock (varsity jackets are a jock thing right?) covered in coffee. "You little bitch!" he yelled. God, calm down, it was coffee. A girl, donning a shirt that read "BELLEVILLE CHEERLEADING SQUAD", apparently agreed with me and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, beating someone up over coffee isn't worth losing your football scholarship. Now, come on, I don't wanna be late." And they were gone. It wasn't until then I realized the halls were empty. I checked my time on my phone. 8:05. Late and covered in coffee on the first day. Great. I gagged slightly smelling myself. I hate how coffee tastes and smells. After wandering around for a few more minutes, I finally found room 245. I tried to be quiet when I opened the door, but the hinges apparently hasn't been piled in a while. They made a high-pitched squeak as I attempted to sneak in the room. Again, everyone was staring at me. Their were whispers of people talking about the new girl. Mrs. Joy had been writing "THE CIVIL WAR PROJECT" on the board when I walked in. She immediately turned around. "Why are you late?" she asked, her voice now shrill and intimidating compared to how it was earlier. "I-I... I got lost. And then I ran into someone and spilled their coffee everywhere and..."
"Enough. Detention during lunch." she replied, and turned back to the board.
I took the only empty seat in the back and I could tell everyone was still staring at me. Before I could even pull out my notebook, a crumpled paper was thrown at my head. I unfolded it to find someone had written, "Go die, emo loser. We don't take kindly to new people."

If they were going to intimidate me, they should've used a better insult. I looked around the room and a group of girls were giggling. They realized I was looking and put on their poker face, turning back to Mrs. Joy. I still felt a twinge of sadness from the note. It was only the first day, how could they hate me already? I looked up and Mrs. Joy had written on the board, "CIVIL WAR PROJECT: Write an essay, create a PowerPoint, etc., on how either the north or south dealt with the war. You may have one partner." Right after I finished reading, everyone scrambled to partner with their friends. I stayed in the corner. Once everyone had their partners (there was an odd number of kids, I just happened to be the outlier.), a girl raised her hand. "Didn't the Civil War end because, like, the Union guy who was also like, the president, like, die?"
How did this girl even pass middle school? Why was she in an honors class? My eyes drifted to her bag, a baby pink purse with a gold adornment of the bottom with two C's. Money. Of course, why hadn't I thought of that? Money will get you anywhere nowadays.
"Well, you're close," replied Mrs. Joy. Not even. "The Confederate general, Robert E. Lee, surrendered to the Union general-slash-president Ulysses S. Grant."
"Oh..."
Mrs. Joy proceeded to talk about what you can do for the project but I didn't pay attention. I was just going to do an essay about the north.

Soon enough, the bell went off, and I packed myself up as quickly as possible. I was about to leave when someone grabbed my arm. I turned and it was Mrs. Joy. "I'm sorry. You don't actually have lunch detention. I just didn't want the kids to think they can get away with being late. I'll take you to your next class."

I had 3 more periods before lunch, honors math, honors science, and honors English. I had a lot if honors classes. I'm very intelligent. To be honest, it's one of the few things I like about myself. I'm not saying I hate myself, but I'm just not very satisfied with my appearance nor personality. Anyways, the the time lunch started, I'd had 7 notes thrown at me, all saying something along the lines of, "Die!" or, "Emo!" I honestly couldn't stand it anymore. I had been here for 4 fucking hours. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. I wasn't going to cry, I just needed to be alone.

Notes