Author: Teehee Tummytums PM
"We accept the love we think we deserve" She will do anything to prevent him from leaving her, even if it ruins her whole life. When she finds out that he won't reciprocate, will there be anyone to save her from herself?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,541 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 12-29-12 - Published: 12-28-12 - id: 3086990
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I reluctantly swung open the heavy door. Sighing, I walked in the dreaded classroom.
Freshman Biology. I'm stuck in Freshman Biology. I'm a senior for Christ's sake! Why is a senior in a freshman class you may ask? Because the teacher is Satan's mistress, that's why. I completely failed this class in 9th grade because of that thing known as Ms. Higgins.
"Since you're so late Miss McCormick, why don't you introduce yourself first?" See what I mean? Who does that?
"Oh the honor!" I proclaimed as I walked slowly on the tacky linoleum floor to the front of the class. Every single pair of eyes was on me, wondering who I was, and why they hadn't seen me before.
"Well, the name's Ash," I began while I chipped the rest of the black nail polish off my nails, "and I hate both freshmen and biology." I decided to look up and boy, did that get a reaction. Ms. Higgins made a slight choking noise since she was drinking her Fiji water and the students' reactions were a mixture of O-shaped mouths and the resulting snorts of trying to hold back laughter. Feeling very satisfied with the reaction, I confidently marched past the tacky motivational posters and left, ignoring the cries of that thing.
Enjoying the fleeting warmth of late August, I strolled across the littered campus covered in crappy graffiti for my rendezvous with my boyfriend of three years. Just the thought of him made me quicken my pace. The closer I got, the wider my smile grew.
"What's got you so excited?" he said indignantly while wisps of cigarette smoke blew from his mouth. My smile faltered at his tone, but it maximized again as I retold the trouble I caused just a few moments earlier.
He chuckled and pulled me close so that I could feel the vibrations through his chest. "That old hag deserved it" he replied with another puff of smoke. I slapped him lightly on the shoulder; he knew that I hated it when he smoked. He rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.
"What did you call me?" I asked as I pushed away from me. With a laugh he forcefully tried grab me.
"Come on babe. What does it matter?" He reached for me, and that was when I slapped him. That was a big mistake.
We both froze, the shock on his face slowly morphing into anger. "You bitch." This was not good, not good at all. I soon began to beg for mercy, which was humiliating.
"Mitch! I'm so sorry! Please, forgive me. Please! It was an accident really, please believe me. Mitch! Don't hurt me, please."I tried to grab him to calm him down, but he pushed me, so hard in fact that I fell.
I tried to push myself off the ground, when he kicked me down. At my cry of pain, he laughed. I just sat there, crying. I soon heard footsteps and I knew I was alone.
After a few moments I tried to pick myself up again. Suddenly, pain shot through my right arm. I looked at it, and you could tell that it had been broke. I sighed tiredly, 'Wait 'til my father finds out.'
After another moment or two I picked myself off my feet, maneuvering carefully in a way that did not include the use of my right arm. I tried to regain my composure before walking home.
After my 20-minute walk home, I arrived at my home; my body tensing with each step. I noticed that our old red Neon was missing from its spot in the driveway. I instantly relaxed; I'm good for another few hours.
I grabbed my keys and unlocked the creaky front door. I was instantly greeted with the distinct smell of beer and cigarette smoke. I hated it. Nursing, my arm I walked down the hallway to the bathroom in search of anything that could help—gauze or Aleve. After a few minutes of fumbling around the cluttered bathroom I came out empty-handed. Naturally.
"Welcome to the life of me." I said to myself, my voice dripping with sarcasm. With a heavy sigh I walked into my broom closet of a room. I locked the door behind me and slowly struggled to fall asleep—just like every other day.
Save the fact that today was my birthday.
A/N: So, my first story on FictionPress. But that should not matter. Any advice is greatly appreciated. Mean or nice I can take it, but please review! :) Happy New Year!