Chapters 1-8

Chapters 1-8

A Chapter by ShianSilence

Very short chapters. Read and enjoy (:

Chapter One
Her Side- The New Girl
Slowly crawling up the side of the cold window was the condensation from my hot breath as I pressed my forehead up against the glass and tried to steady my breathing. I must have been in tears for at least the past sixty or so miles.
Between sobs I managed to moan out a few barely understandable words; "Mom, I don't want to go..." My voice cracked and trailed off as more tears tumbled down across my pink cheeks. Everyone in the car stayed silent. We all knew that we didn't really want to go. Except for my step-dad, Ron, who had this crazy idea of moving to Spokane, Washington. But yet no one dared to say any words, not even words of comfort. We were already in Oregon, hundreds upon hundreds of miles away from San Diego. How could I not be upset? San Diego is my home and I am leaving everything behind. I am going from big city to what seems like the middle of no where. I have nothing to look forward to out there.
At first I tried to pretend that it was all going to be okay and I even convinced myself that this move was just temporary. But of course it isn't. So many miles from home and there was no turning back. In Oregon is when reality hit. We are moving and starting over. No going back now. My eyes welled up with more tears as we pulled away from the gas station and inched our way back onto the freeway where we would only travel further and further away. The sun was setting and I tuckered myself out from crying so much. Promising that I would just take a cat nap, I closed my eyes for a second and then cursed myself when I realized I woke up at three o'clock the following morning. Everyone else was sleeping except for Ron who was driving. 
"How much longer?" I asked. 
"Six." he snapped back bluntly. 
"Six hours...oh."
"Cheyenne, why can't you just accept it and cheer the hell up? This move is for you guys!"
"I...I'm sorry."
"Better be, this move is costing your mother and I a lot of money."
"I know."
And then once again the car was enveloped in an eerie silence. Only six more hours and then the start of new everything begins. New friends, new school, new neighbors, new house, too much new. We had just gotten used to living in a smaller city within San Diego. I made great lifelong friends and I was doing well in school. I was on the color guard team at the high school and I was happy. Now here I am starting over once again in the second semester of my freshman year. 
I know that starting in the middle of the school year is going to draw a lot of attention. I will be the new girl and no one will recognize me. I stand out in a crowd enough because of how i dress. I have black hair that I like to tease to extreme volumes and I wear huge bows and bright colors. People could say that I am the "scene" or "emo" chick. I'm not one for labels, but whatever floats your boat. I don't want to stick out more at my new school, but I also am not willing to give up my style or personality. I was going to have to just brave it out and hope for the best. 
Chapter 2
His Side: Science Class
Sometimes it is hard to be loved by all the ladies. Ha not. These three girls in my science class are really cute but of course they don't really talk to me much unless they have to.
There is Terra. She is a cheerleader and has beautiful, long hair. She sits near me and we usually will do science projects together in class and share the occasional joke.
Then there is Mindy. Mindy is really good looking but always seems to get clicky with Terra. So most of the time, they spend together instead of talking with me. It is kind of unfortunate. Mindy has a different kind of personality. But I like it.
Finally there is Ciara. She has been my friend since early middle school years, and since I am now a sophomore, that means we have been friends for quite awhile. I really like her, but she is the popular type and I can tell that our friendship has drifted a bit. But god, is she beautiful! But i can't risk that friendship. I'm okay with sharing the occasional smile and 'Hello' with her. 
Girls. It's not bad being the smart kid when the girls come to you for answers. Of course, they only want answers from me, but it is still nice to know that I can help. And besides, I have plenty of friends and that is all that matters to me. I like my friends, my computer, and my video games. That is all I really need and I am just fine with that. 
I haven't had a girl friend before, but that doesn't bother me in the slightest. I haven't even hung out with a girl outside of school really. Ciara and I only hung out at school with a group of other people. But I never really thought that a girlfriend was needed. I just don't have that desire. And no, I am not gay. I just feel like friends is all I need. I am happy with how things are now and I am content at keeping it that way.
Chapter 3
Her side: First day of school
We got to the new house safely and Rick, Ron's twin brother and one of our new neighbors, helped us unpack a little bit and put together our rooms slightly. This was my first time having my own room. I am almost fifteen and I have never had my own room. It is pathetic. But I would rather go home and share with my younger brother and sister again than be stuck here. 
That night I layed in my bed and I panicked. Tomorrow I was going in to register for school. What was i going to wear? Who am I going to sit and eat lunch with? What kind of teachers was I going to have? What were people going to think of me? 
I sat up in bed and hugged my knees close to my chest. My parents actually gave me the option to not start school until next week. Now I regret telling them that I want to start right away. I only told them that to make them happy, and part of it was because just those words, 'Yea, I'm ready', gave me just a little bit of reassurance. But now, here I am having a panic attack. Closing my eyes, I try to focus on my breathing. In, out, in, out. It feels as though someone has a tight grip on my throat and I can't breathe. My head starts to pound from loss of oxygen and I being to hear things as if i were in a tunnel, echoey and distant. I gave up trying to get rid of this attack and decided to just sit it out. 
I pulled my knees tighter to my chest and let the tears roll down my tanned San Diego skin and pitter-patter onto my pink and white plaid pants. Frustrated with myself, I wrapped my arms around each other and dug my nails deep into my skin. With each tear that fell I just grabbed on tighter. 
This was a better alternative to grabbing the sccisors in my dresser drawer. Normally when I would get this upset I would instinctively grab a sharp object and drag it deeply across my wrists. Across the bridge, not over the river, I always reminded myself. Cutting horizontally just caused harm, while cutting straight up and down could kill you, and I wasn't going to commit suicide. That isn't what I was ever out for. My mind isn't wired that way. I think of it as a punishment of some sorts. I feel like I deserve it. But of course I couldn't do that now. Being the new kid is bad enough, but being the weird kid with cuts on her wrists doesn't look good at all. 
Eventually I cried myself to sleep and woke up the next morning to my annoying alarm. Rolling over, I slammed the snooze button and prayed for more time. I'm not ready. Sitting up I looked at my tired, swollen eyes in the mirror. I'm not ready. I get up and skip breakfast entirely; I will not throw that up today. I'm not ready. I brush my teeth and go back to my room. Looking in the tall mirror in my room, I decide that I want to look somewhat gothic today. Maybe that way people will just be intimidated and leave me alone to a point. After shuffling noisily through a box, I find my makeup case and set it on my dresser. I'm not ready. I line my eyes with thick black eyeliner and a thick layer of mascara. I'm not ready. I brush all of my black hair forward and make sure that part of it is covering my eyes. I tease my hair to extreme volumes and place a big lace bow into it. I straighten the thin, razored ends and I'm still not ready. My new green and blue backpack sits empty by my bedroom door. I grab it and throw in a few blank notebooks, a few pens, pencils, highlighters, and all of my makeup. I'm not ready. I put on a fake smile and walk out to my mother's car. I slide into the passenger seat and nod that it is time to go. I don't dare to speak because I know that if I do my voice will waver and crack and I'm not going to loose this act I have put on. I have to be tough. And to the rest of the world I'll look ready. I'm not ready. 
After what seems like forever, we pull into the parking lot of a very small high school. It looked so strange. It was indoors. The hallways, the classrooms, the cafeteria, everything was indoors. Great, even more of a prison setting. In California, we had schools where the only thing indoors was the classrooms and to get between classes, you would walk outside and across campus. This school was really small too. My old school had about three thousand kids attending, whereas this one looks like it could barely hold a thousand. If that. I slid out of my seat and shuffled to the main doors, my mom way in front of me. First period had already begun and the halls were empty. And here is another weird thing; we had to go upstairs to the reception desk to register me.
The lady at the  desk looked nice enough, and we were able to fill out paperwork quickly. I got handed my schedule and she told me I could just sit in the office until the bell rang for second period. The time ticked by ever so slowly. I wish it would just start already so I could just get it all over with and go back to my sorry excuse for what my parents want to call home. I don't even want to be here. Not here at East Valley High School, not in Spokane, not in Washington at all. I just want to be in California. Right now if I was still out there I would be in my first period Color Guard class, spinning rifle or flag with my team. But no, I'm here in a foreign place where I obviously don't belong considering all the looks I have gotten from staff members. Caught up in reminiscing, I jumped when the bell rang and students spilled out into the halls. I'm not ready. 
This is where my  day in a living hell began. People kept giving me looks and not even calling me by name. I'm not just the new girl, my name is Cheyenne. I saw glances towards my direction and then shared whispers. It was like this until forth period when some people decided to actually talk to me. A girl named herself as Mariah and smiled. This is the first smile from a person that I had received all day. I smiled back and she said, "I like your bayge."
"Excuse me, my what?"
"Your bayge."
"" I glanced around. Oh god, was this like some weird code or joke that she was trying to get across?
"Your backpack, your bayge. It's cute." She was saying bag. What is up with this accent out here? Bayge? It's BAG. I thanked her and smiled, but for the most part I kept to myself. I was so not ready to open myself up to other people. I would smile, make small talk, and get through the school year. That was my plan. 
After that class was lunch and I sat with Mariah. She told me that a lot of people were interested in me. At first I thought that she meant that people were curious as to who I was. Of course I knew that. I was the new girl. Whether I wanted it or not, there was going to be that attention. But that wasn't what she meant. She meant interested as in wanting to get with me. That was really shocking. That is not what I wanted at all. I tried my best this morning to not be attractive. Who would want me? Well according to Mariah there was many people. She told me about the Wallas twins (Dakota and Dallas), the Bradshaw brothers (Glenn and Jared), Ted, Kent, Armand, Asa, and a few more. Why? This is the last thing I wanted. Once she pointed these people out, I noticed that they liked me. I figured that I may as well just try to be their friend because I have no one out here. I was sure that they could get over feelings quickly.
Well I learned out the hard way that that wasn't going to happen. Apparently these Washington boys are just out and open. They all stood there calling me hot and sexy. I found that somewhat offensive. Normally I would be okay with that, but number one, I don't know them well enough for it to be funny, and number two, they were treating me like an item. Even worse, they told me straight up that they wanted to have sex with me. Really? And then they all start to argue over who is gonna get me first. None of them. That is just so incredibly rude. I am not a game, or a toy. I am not the new girl. I am Cheyenne. I wish people would just get that through their heads.
Then I went to my fifth period which was pretty calm for the most part thankfully. Sixth period P.E is when things got chaotic again. I went down to the gym and no one was down there. I went to the locker room and no one was there either. The bell rang and i panicked. Where could they all be? I walked upstairs to the office and asked them. Turns out once a week they go to a classroom for health and today was the day. Just my luck. I sulkily walked to the class and everyone's head turned in my direction as I opened the door into the classroom. Immediately there was murmurs and staring eyes. I walked up to the teacher and told him why I was late and he excused me and told me to sit down. Luckily I didn't have to talk to anyone since we were watching a video. Unfortunately, that video ended fifteen minutes before school got out and we had that much free time. I sat in the desk and pretended that I was doing some sort of homework. Within a few minutes about five of the boys kept asking me sexual questions. One even dared to ask if I would come over after school so we could mess around a bit. Another one responded with, "No, me first!" I was on the verge of tears when the bell rang and I rushed out to find my cousins Cortney and Tyler. 
I met up with them, but turns out we missed the bus. So we ended up walking home in freezing, snowy weather. They asked me about my day, and to avoid any questions I just said it went great. Then Tyler informed me that one of his friends, Jake, also liked me. Wow, can't people leave me alone? On my first day of school, I had been turned into a game. The game was something along the lines of 'Who can f**k the new girl first?'. Awesome. Not a game I wanted to play. I got home and fell asleep crying once again. I wanted to go back home.
Chapter Four
His side: Hey a new girl!
I was in Science class first thing in the morning for first period when the new girl walked in. Sadly, she looked kind of down and tired. Since she was new and this must be he first day I felt as though it was my obligation to hopefully and possibly make her day a little bit better. I saw her talking to Mrs. McMichael, our bio-medical science teacher, and I couldn't help but notice the cute little way she was standing with her side popped and her knee a little out. She was kind of pretty. I am kind of awkward when it comes to girls, but not at all awkward when it comes to making new friends, I just needed to come up with how to say hello and get her to sit with me. I thought that I would just make myself known and introduce myself. I stood up and said "Hey, look! A new girl!"
She looked at me and smiled a little and said a simple "Hello."
"Where are you from?" I asked.
"West Hills High School in San Diego."
"Why are you here from San Diego?"
"I don't know. Family moved and I went with I guess."
"What's your name?"
"I'm Jacob." 
Cheyenne. She seems cute. And just by making small talk now she is sitting at a table with Terra and I. Class started then and the teacher announced we would be dissecting a heart. This was going to be great. Cheyenne didn't look too confident and she told Terra and I that she knew nothing about the heart but would try her best. We finished the project and cleaned up. The bell rang to leave to the next class and Cheyenne didn't hesitate to head out of the door. But she didn't leave without flashing a smile in my direction. Oh well, we only made small chit chat today, but I guess it wouldn't be easy to be new. It's only mid-January, so I have time to make her my new friend.
Chapter Five:
Her side: Science Class day one
I was terrified. Who knew what this class was going to hold? After yesterday I didn't want to deal with anyone. I just wanted to go in unnoticed and sit down and get the work done and go. 
Thankfully, when I walked into class, everyone was talking and not paying attention to who walked in. I introduced myself to the teacher and she asked me if I wanted her to introduce me to the class or if I just wanted to sit down quietly. Obviously I chose to sit down quietly. Right when I walked away from her a boy came up to me. Oh god not another boy I thought. He looked at me and smile and said "Oh hey look! A new girl!" Great. Just the announcement that I didn't want whatsoever. I just smiled and said a quick, blunt hello and answered some questions that he asked. I found out his name was Jacob. He seemed nice, but I still didn't trust him or like him. He was probably just like the rest of them. Just trying to get with me, and he was using being nice to do it. Not going to work buddy. He was really cute though. He had these silly little callicks in his brown hair and his eyes were a deep brown. He acted kind of childish and silly, but he was nice. But no, not changing my mind on him. I do not like him or anyone else here at this damn school.
When I sat down, I found out that we were dissecting a heart today. That doesn't really bother me, but on my first day in this class? Really? Kind of sucks. Thankfully that kid Jacob did most of the work since I knew nothing about the heart at all. We cleaned up and I caught myself glancing at him more than I should have. The bell rang and I wanted to very quickly run out and dash to my next class so that nobody would catch me in the halls. I looked back at Jacob and gave him a little smile and he give me a silly little grin back. And with that, I wandered off to my next class with a hop and my step and a little bit of a lighter heart. At least he was a little nice. Unlike the majority of the stupid people here, he at least showed a slight amount of genuine care. But I wasn't ready to put trust into anyone. Besides., he was only my classmate.
My next class was a career class where we worked on resume stuff and learned how to be prepared to get a job and what not. We had a free day that day just to work on whatever that we wanted to. The teacher kept glancing over at me and I felt watched. Finally she came over to me and tapped lightly on my shoulder. When we made eye contact she pointed to the door and asked me to join her outside. What could I have possibly done to get into trouble already? But when we got outside the door, she simply said, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm just a quiet person."
"No, you're not. I've read a lot of the things you have written. You say that you may want to be a choreographer, a dancer, or a color guard instructor. They aren't shy, quiet people. And you don't seem too engaged in any lectures. I know this is only you're second day here, but I've seen your transcript. Your grades are flawless and I want you to keep them that way. If you need anything, let me know."
I had no response and I just looked down and walked back into class. There were tears in my eyes and I struggled to hold them back. No, everything was not okay. It was awful. I just wanted to go home. Home as in back to San Diego. The bell rang and I continued on with my day.
The day was just as the one before, with people harassing and being so rude and awful. Everyone was saying that I was pretty, and I was flattered, but I didn't take any of it as a complement. Actually I was somewhat afraid. I grew up being hated and bullied and beat up, and this wasn't something I was used to. Girls say that they would love to have all the boys crawling over them, but to me, it makes me sick. I wanted them to all leave me alone. No matter what hallway I went down, or where I went, there was always at least one of them. Pinching my a*s, smirking, looking me up and down, was all just so disrespectful. It made me want to cry.
I went to gym class next and I walked down the stairs in tears yet again. I wanted to leave this hell. And gym was the worst. Sometimes guys would try to go into the locker room and sneak a peek without getting in trouble. Many times people actually acted so immature as the pull down other peoples gym shorts just to embaress them. They did that to both girls and guys and no one really cared. I walked out of the locker room to go into the big gym and I saw Jacob in his P.E clothes talking and laughing with some of his friends. My heart did a little jump. Why did it do that? He turned to look at me at I felt my cheeks turn red as we caught eyes. His smile broke my trance and I smiled back. I probably looked so stupid. Standing there staring at him, and I looked so unattractive in gym clothes. But why would I care? He is just that kid in my science class. But then again, he was kind of cute, and really nice. No. He has to be like the rest of them. That's just how it is. I wasn't trusting him. With that, I went into the gym and finished my day. 
Chapter 6:
Going "home"
"CHEYENNE" is what I first heard echoing in the near empty new house that I moved into. The loud, booming voice was coming from downstairs. It was Ron. I called him my dad, but that's just because he was. Even though he was my step-dad, he was the one who raised me. He really scared me though. We used to be so close, but as I got older nothing was the same. That's part of the reason why I was scared to move here. I was isolated away from people I knew and people that could help. And I was alone. He would hurt me again eventually. 
I remember that with him it all started slowly. He used to joke around and watch movies with us. He would take us to the lakes, or just on a car drive, which as a kid seemed magical. He would blare the music loud and sing with us and roll down the windows. But one day that image seemed to crack. He started hiding himself away in the room at night. Late at night when I would lie awake in my room I would hear him yelling at my mom and she would cry. The next day I would see my mom at the kitchen table crying while he went to work. I never asked what was wrong because I kind of didn't want to know. I just gave her a hug and she cried more. After he started making my mom cry, he would disappear on and off all the time. Then when he was home, he got really angry at nothing. His presence scared me and I didn't even want to be in the same vicinity as him. It really was awful. He never hurt my little sister. She was way too young and I think he knew that. He started by hurting my brother though. He would hit him around and my brother Brandon would go to bed crying every night. Ron would come home and throw his stuff around and everyone would stay quiet and look down to avoid eye contact. This is something that lasted months. He started to punch holes in the walls, and breaking things around the house. Whenever one of us did something wrong, he made sure that we knew it.
One day, around eight at night, Ron went in and yelled at Brandon. He got into his face and was screaming and spitting. Brandon didn't do anything. Everyone crowded our room to watch to make sure Brandon was safe. My mom just watched and started to cry as Ron started to break all of Brandon's stuff and continued to scream. He grabbed Brandon's throat and my heart dropped. He continued to yell and that is when I stepped in. I screamed a bloody scream from deep inside me and started to yell and cry. I screamed at him and told him that he was wrong. That Brandon didn't do anything and that even if he did, that didn't justify his actions. I yelled and told him that I was sick of what he was doing. Everyone got quiet and all you could hear was the silent cries of my brother and my labored breathing. He stood up silently, and we all thought that he was just going to walk out. It looked like it was until he picked up a heavy toy and threw it at me. I moved out of the way and it shattered against the glass mirrored closet door behind me. Everyone still stayed quiet. I cried more though, and he got into my face. He yelled at me, "CHEYENNE! How dare you talk to me like that! Do you know how f*****g wrong you are for that? You have fucked up big time! You think that was angry? You haven't seen me angry. You have no right to say anything. I am your dad and I know what I'm doing. I'm the parent here, not you. You stupid little f**k up. Using that damn f*****g mouth of yours! Who the hell do you think you are?" 
I only cried more and slid down to the floor. He followed me down and still continued to stay in my face and yell. I covered my eyes while I was crying and he grabbed my wrists tightly. 
"Stop that hurts!" I said.
"STOP YOUR CRYING." he said.
This only made me cry harder. 
"Do you want me to give you something to cry about?" he said. He pulled back his hand and went to hit me, and as an instinct, I grabbed a shard of broken glass and stabbed him in the throat.  I pulled away, panicked. Blood ran down my closed fist and made me sick. I couldn't believe what I just did. He cursed and yelled and had to go to the hospital. Let's just say it wasn't a good night. And since then, he vowed to show me real pain. I started to really hate myself. He put me down all the time and hurt me. I wanted to die. I started to feel like I deserved what he was doing to me. I hated how I looked and I became disgusted with myself. He hated me. I hated me. 
After this small flashback, I snapped back into reality. Ron's voice still echoed as he was calling my name.. I slowly desenced down the staircase and down into the basement. I stood on the bottom step, afraid to confront him. I peeked around the corner and saw him with his head down on his hands while sitting in the computer chair. Part of me felt pity for this man. He was obviously just so crushed, and so ruined, but he made it all so much more worse for himself. In this state he looked near vulnerable, but I knew better than to underestimate his strength..
His voice started off as a mumble at first as he said, "Cheyenne, I just got an email from your school."
What could I have possibly done already? There is no way that I have done anything so soon. I'd only have been there for less than two full days, and for the most part I tried to keep to myself. The silence clung awkwardly in the air and I still didn't respond. He didn't say anything either and my heart raced faster with each second that passed . Why was so much time able to slip away. He sat up and walked over to me. Although he is quite short for a man of his age, he still really terrified me. He was larger than me, and I had no defense against him. He looked at me for a split second before getting into my face and yelling inaudible words. My vision was blurred from the sudden spill of tears and my ears were ringing. It was just the beginning of a panic attack. I tried to step back from him, but only managed in tripping backwards over the step and falling down. Now I couldn't get up. He was towering over me. I just squeezed my eyes shut and waited for it to be over. My eyes opened for a split second and time seemed to slow as I saw his fist coming down towards my face. My hands moved up to shield myself, but it didn't do much good. His fist still managed to make contact with the side of my jaw. I tried to stop the tears so that he would just stop. I knew that it was the excitement of my tears falling down my face that kept him going. I took a deep breath and looked at him with a serious grimace. The feeling of the hot, metallic tasting blood slid down my throat, and it took all i had not to gag. He looked down at me and then walked up the stairs. I crawled down the rest of the stairs and let my body collapse and cave in on myself. I let the held back tears spill down onto the floor. Once i collected myself, I went over the the computer to see what the email read. It was a message from Mr. Kruegar, the drama teacher. It read, 
"To whom it may concern: Your daughter, Cheyenne Fenstermaker, was just enrolled into my class. She so far is doing quite well and is quite the actress. I do, however, have a concern. This lesson we are on working on  is all about emotions. Today's assignment was to partner up and to portray the emotion of being afraid. To get them into this state of mind, I had them think of their most prominent fears. Cheyenne looked on the bridge of tears, but I took no real notice. She is new, and seems somewhat shy so I let it go. She went on to work with her classmate Mariah Willis. When it was time to come back in, Mariah and Cheyenne were the first to perform their skit. It was quite disturbing. I am an open teacher, and I encourage imagination, but Cheyenne had done a skit on abuse. She played the victim while Mariah was the abuser. This would have been an acceptable skit since actors do have to unfortunately act out sad scenes like those, but I was so shocked to see that Cheyenne actually was able to cry. This is a hard feat to act out, but I don't underestimate my students. However, she continued to quietly cry when she sat back down. I'm not trying to get involved, but is she okay? If there is anything that i can do, just let me know. Thank you for your time. -Mr.K"
I held back the choking tears. He noticed, and if i wanted to I could get help and email him back telling him that it was not ok. Instead, I replied, "Dear Mr. K, Cheyenne is fine, she is just a bit unstable with the move that we have recently done. She will be ok, I have already talked to her. Thanks for the concern. -Ronald Kinlin" Send.
He only ever had hurt me this bad. Now he was ok with the other kids. I couldn't take my brother and sister's dad away. That wouldn't be fair. Besides, I don't want to be involved in legal issues, and what if he found out I told? Then he would most likely kill me and get away with it.  I had to stay quiet for the sake of the rest of my family. I had too. As much as it killed me, I had to just take it as it was. Grow up. And just take it. 
I got up and silently made my way back up the stairs and hid in my room for the rest of the night. The tears spilled over onto my pillow and my hair stuck to my red cheeks. I was so done. I was done having to deal with all of it. With shutters of my shoulders, and the heaving of my wavering breath, I fell asleep, hoping that maybe i wouldn't wake up in the morning. Maybe that would just be better. Who wants me here anyways? 
Chapter 7
Her Side: Hiding
I woke up the most horrific, pounding headache and a heavy heart. Slipping softly out of bed, I got up and looked at my dreadful appearance in the reflection that disgusted me to look at every morning. The left side of my jaw had a swollen, purple knot. Another thing to hide. More makeup. And so I resorted back to the "emo" girl look again. It wasn't a bad look, but that doesn't mean that I particularly liked it too much. It was perfect though. I would brush my hair forward in front of my face to hide my swollen eyes and bags. Then I would heavily line my eyes with black eyeliner. Then people would either just not look at my eyes, or they would assume any color on my face was just from the smeared makeup; or so I would say. Wincing at the touch, I put on more cover up on my jawline. It seemed like a mere shadow now, something I could make an excuse for. 
The time seemed to fly by, as it was already time for me to head to the bus. The bus scared me. I knew people stared at me. I tried to always stick to the front of the bus so that I could be one of the first people off. I stepped on the bus and immediately I felt the hot glare of everyone on the bus. Did they notice? Could they see? I sat down and looked straight ahead, and yet I still felt so unwelcome, so out of place. This place was not where I belonged whatsoever. 
I got to school and walked through the front doors, my head bowed down. I didn't know where to go other than to class so I went to my science class early.  Only one other girl was in there sitting in the back of the class, and she smiled at me. I know it was rude, but I didn't even look back. Continuing to stare down at my shoes, I sat down at the desk with my head down. One by one people started to file into class. I caught myself looking up at the door every time it opened because each time it opened, I was hoping to see Jacob. He wasn't that bad at all. In fact, I thought that maybe I had started to like him as something more. He seemed to be genuine. But you can never know. 
I held back the tears as time ticked away before the bell rang. I didn't want to go through yet another day here. But then I saw him walk through the doorway. Right away he smiled at me, the most amazing smile. We had eye contact, and I couldn't help but to smile back. It wasn't even forced. It was all natural. I was able to smile a genuine smile. He walked towards me and welcomed me with a silly accent saying, "Ello!". He was just so cute. I couldn't help but to giggle. I seemed to be at a loss for words and I couldn't speak, only smile. Finally I was able to sputter out a quiet hello back. 
Throughout the class, I tried leaning over the table to help him with his work, but i would lightly brush up against his hand and blush feverishly. Why in the world was I blushing? Class ended a bit too soon, and I craved for just a bit more time, But, we went our separate ways and hurried out to our next class. I wanted to see more of this boy. I really did. He had already, without even noticing, had made my day better. I didn't think it was possible. But he did it. And for a moment I found myself happy.
The rest of the day I found my mind wandering to thoughts of Jacob. I wasn't quite sure why, but I kept trying to picture us together. I doubted that that was even possible, but it was still fun to imagine. I could see us fitting near perfectly. I didn't feel good enough or pretty enough for him, but when I pictured us together, it was beautiful. He, with his brown hair that just sat at a silly cute angle on his head, and his deep brown eyes that just were so welcoming and beautiful, his height, being just a bit taller than me, was perfect, and he was built. Built enough to be extremely attractive, but not disgustingly so. It was just perfect. How his jawline shaped down perfectly to his smile, and his arms just seemed so warm and welcoming. Oh how bad did I just want something as simple as a hug. 
But here I am, not the greatest gal out there. I have huge bug eyes, and short black hair that hung awkwardly at my shoulders.  I wore weird clothing and wore heavy makeup to cover up flaws. I didn't smile much. And let's not forget what is on the inside. On the inside I was just destroyed. I was suffering from so many awful things in my mind. Who would want to be with a freak like me.
But why was I even thinking of this? After all, he is just the kid in my science class. Why should I mean anything to him? Yes, he made me happy, made me smile. But what could I offer to him? Nothing. I couldn't do anything. I was sure that he didn't look forward to seeing me as much as I looked forward to seeing him. And besides, I am such a freak. I have only know him for a few days. But still I felt this strange connection.
Even though i had only known Jacob for a short amount of time, I felt something. I felt a craving to see him more, a craving to be around him. Maybe I was just getting wrapped up in emotions because he was the only one making me happy. But maybe it was real feelings. And i was so rude to him before. Of course he doesn't like me. He is just naturally nice and wanted to make the new girl happy. Well that goal was accomplished, but I still wanted more. Not more out of him, just more time. But I didn't think that that was going to happen. Not in a million years. Him and I were out of the question and I knew it.
Chapter 8
Being pushed around
So obviously things weren't getting brighter. I was stuck in a rut and each day that rut wore itself down deeper and deeper and I couldn't get out. It was the same routine everyday. Get up, go to school, get harassed, act like i don't care, say hello to Jacob and try to be happy, try to get through the day. But try is all i could do. Try. And I was sick of trying. I was pretending like everything was okay but it wasn't. Everything was falling apart. Everyday something new chipped away at me. The names, the people, the voices. Just everything echoed in my head and I couldn't take it. Now i have only been here for about a week but what do i have to go for. I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. I wanted to stop pretending. I yearned to just spill out everything onto a piece of paper. Tell everyone how it really was. I just was done. Then they could read my little goodbye letter, maybe cry, then get over it. 
So that Saturday night i sat on the edge of my bed and wrote out my letter. It read, 
"Dear friends and family, I am so very sorry. I am sorry for giving up, I am sorry for not being good enough, or pretty enough, nice enough, sweet enough smart enough, just nothing good enough. And i couldn't be anymore sorry. I have always tried so hard. I have stayed up multiple hours at night and into the morning working on homework and class work and studying. Along with that I volunteer and I do color guard, I balance friends, chores, school work, grades, preparing for college at a young age. I try. But yet i find myself falling short of everyone's expectations everyday. I cant do good enough. Sometimes I feel like i just need to give up. Why live at all if i cant live to please anyone? I cant even please myself. My heart longs to be someone that isn't who i have become. I don't want to be Cheyenne. I'm dissapointed with myself. I'm ugly, hopeless, and nothing can save me. And when everything is over and done, in the end i'm still at the bottom. I climb so high only to fall so low. I guess that i don't know anything at all. Who am i to say that anyone may even possible love me? Who am i to say that anyone needs me here anyway? I don't know why i am still waiting to find myself. And i don't know why i am still searching for the people that care. It has been this way for years. And i cant take it anymore. I know i cant. I'm drowning and i cant breathe. This pressure is suffocating and i cant do it anymore. I've lost everything i did have. I moved away thousands of miles to a new state and i lost all my friends.  I cant do it anymore. I am so alone and I have no one. I lost my whole color guard team. I lost the feeling of comfort at my old school. I just had nothing. And it seems as though no one cares and no one can see it. If you knew about the scars, the blood poured into the white porcelain sink at night when you all thought that i was asleep, about the countless nights i stayed awake wishing i were dead. If you knew, then maybe things would be different. Maybe there would be pity, or hope. Maybe people would treat me nicer. If you knew what i did to hide all the pain, i bet that things would be different. But of course i wouldn't have told you what was going on. I would be segregated and looked at and taunted by friends and family alike. I'm tired of running away from my problems. So i guess this is me writing my final goodbye. This is the last time that I will run away. And this time I am running away for good."
After I was done pouring out my feelings onto paper, I also let the blood drip and drain from the freshly cut flesh and paint itself upon the white paper. I was going to just stab myself after a bit of suffering. I could do it. And it would be easy. I earned and deserved this suffering, so if bleeding to death was the option, then so be it. I grabbed the sharpest knife from the kitchen and stood in front of the mirror. I had this sick fantasy of wanting to watch myself die. I took the knife to my throat and let out a small whine. I was terrified. I looked myself up and down and with each passing second i got more angry and dissapointed in myself. I lightly touched the tip of the sharp blade to my throat and was about the press it in deeper when my phone went off. It was a text message. From Jacob.
It read a simple message, "Hey."
Nothing more. But it was enough for me to put down the knife and pick up the phone. I responded and we talked for a couple of hours. I found myself drifting away from the mirror and onto my bed. I became relaxed and i fell asleep to his last text which said, "You looked good today. (:" It was a small, nice thing to say. Something he probably doesn't even remember. But it saved me. 


© 2013 ShianSilence

Author's Note

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My Review

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Not bad, but make sure you avoid passivity and keep in mind what sort of message you want to send with this piece. It's well written, but there are parts that seem a little uninspired, and you generally want to avoid that.

Posted 10 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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1 Review
Added on March 25, 2013
Last Updated on March 25, 2013
Tags: depression, anxiety, moving, friends, love, suicide



Spokane Valley, WA

Pretty young, only still an aspiring teen writer. I love to write and read all the time. A lot of my writing will be either fantasy fiction, or realistic fiction. Much of my inspiration will come from.. more..