The Days that Never Stop Passing

Chapter 1

Why am I still here? Why do I still walk these sad halls? Why have I continued to surround myself with these assholes that can't stand? It could be over, all of it, it'd only take a quick minute. No. I can't. Not now, anyway.
I lower my head and continue to walk down the white hallways. I walk into another dull classroom, sit down and tune the world out. A tall women is calling out the names of my peers. I ignore her. She walks over to me.
"Are you Jill?" She tapping me with a chipper smile.
"Uh, yeah,"
"Well Jill if you'll pay attention we can begin class"
I nod. I should've said something. But I didn't. Now I'm stuck getting called Jill for another year. You see Jill is a nice name, but it's not MY name. How do I explain this? Basically Jill is a family name and it wasn't exactly fitting with my identity, to say the least, so I asked my parents if I could by Carter, they were fine with it and people started calling me that and it was really cool, I was so happy. Then my parents died. I've gotten over it, it's whatever. Anyway, because my grandparents are dead and my parents have no siblings I was shipped off to a foster home. A not so nice foster home. A foster home that will only use my birth name, even when I beg them not to. It's great.
It's whatever I'm over all it. Shit happens, you know.
The final bell rings. The sound is jarring but no one else seems to notice. I go to my locker pack up for the day and leave.
Most people would assume I'm going home. I'm not. I'm going to a park. It quite and run down. No one is ever there. Perfect for him. We meet by the tree, like we always do.
"Hey, kitten," he whispers in my ear.
"Let's just get this over with," I mumble.
"Why the rush, it's not like you of all people have some where to be,"
"Whatever"
"Why so distant? Normally you love this"
"Just give me my money, okay!"
"Damn fine, but you know we have to first"
I strip off my clothes and start kissing him. I don't care. So yeah I make bad choices, but I have to make money some how. And no having a real job isn't a choice for me.
I get closer to him, grab his crotch, and kiss him madly. I don't like him. Not at all. I just need money and maybe a nice thrill.
"Ooh we're feisty today" he cockily says.
I throw him to the ground and make my self as appealing as possible. Whatever. I do wanna get into the details to much so to some it up, he came and I didn't, as per usual.
We put our clothes back on, he gave me the money and we both walked away like nothing happened.
What time is it?!
I grab my phone to check the time. A phone was the only thing my foster parents allowed me to have, but that's because my parents are paying for it. It's this weird clause in their will that allows my guardian to use my inheritance money before I'm 18. It supposed to be for collage or in case something bad happens to me, but they use it for them selves and never like me see a cent. I'm lucky I barely coax them into getting me a phone.
Anyway back to the real world. It's 5:30.
Shit! I forgot about my curfew!
I run down the streets using the quickest ways I know to get home.
Shit! Shit! Shit! I'm really gonna get it now! Fuck!
I'm sprinting down the road at this point, when it start to rain. I was so close and now it's pouring.
Fuck my life! I cry in my head.
I keep sprinting my feet slipping under themselves.
Just a one more street and then you're there.
I stood a the top of a hill. I had forgotten the house was down hill.
Fuck it.
I keep sprinting. Then I slip. I fall. I roll. I'm crying. I keep rolling down this steep hill, speed increasing every second. I wanna die. I wish I wasn't born. I wish things like this wouldn't happen to me. I wish I had said my name was Carter to that teacher. I wish my parents were still alive. I wish I was a good kid, damn it!
Hot tears stream down my face, cold droplets smother me. Everything hurts.
I finally stop, but I don't get up until I hear her yell.
"JILLIAN, GET OFF YOUR FAT ASS AND GET IN HERE!!! YOU'RE LATE FOR DINNIER!!!!"
Foster mom.
I slowly get up my body aching, my chest hurts. When I was rolling I missed the house by about a block. I start walking up the hill, my shoes and clothes are soaked. I don't wanna be here. Why'd I have to be late?
I finally get to the doorstep.
"Ha. Ha. Do you think this is funny. Cause, cause I think this is funny," She's pissed, "Just look at you. You're soaked. And late. What you think you can have fun in the rain, while you're family gets to sit and wonder, 'where's Jill, I hope she's okay'"
I wasn't having fun, and you know that.
"Well," not the Well, "Since you want to play like a dog and ruin you're new clothes, we so graciously bought for you..."
The clothes weren't new, and she wasn't being gracious when she gave them to me. They were some other kids from a long time ago.
"You can be like a dog a sit outside until you dry,"
Damn. Whatever. No dinner check :). This is one of the reasons I sleep with that guy, malnourishment is no joke.
I sit in the garage wiping the water off my hands. I pull the razor out of my pocket. I glad it didn't puncture my ass. I start cutting. I always cut my thumb first and then move to my knee. I cut my thumb so I can see what I did so I can look at my scars. I cut my knee so if anyone asks, I can say I fell down. Unfortunately, tonight I can't seem to find anywhere that hasn't been scraped by the road. I unzip my hoodie, take off my shirt and pop open my binder. I lift my small breast a cut underneath it.
The sting is why I keep doing it. The small pinch of 'what if I went deeper'. I do four small cuts and feel less depressed. I grab some hand sanitizer and slather it onto the wound.
Gaugh.
I bite my lip so hard I taste copper. It stings so badly but numbs quickly, I want that feeling back, but I know I have to stop for today.
I grab a dry bra from my bag and stuff the wet binder away. I hung my shirt up to dry a little before putting it back on. I feel the bra rub up against the cuts, it's not the best feeling but I'll deal with it.
I sit in the garage for about an hour, listening to the Tv and younger children get yelled out. It's not like it's my problem though. Then I hear the door unlock. I quickly stand up a get ready for whatever comes my way.
The door opens and there stood a middle-aged, over-weight, balding man. His wife was behind him snickering in her hand.
"Why were you late," he said calmly.
"U-uh I was walking around town, a-and lose track of t-time," I don't usually stutter, unless I'm around him.
"And why were you soaked at the bottom on the hill?"
"I was running home, and it started to rain, and I slipped, and I-I rolled down the hill"
"LAIR!" Screamed his wife in a shill voice.
"No no, it ture. Please believe me"
"Go to your room" he boomed.
I obeyed, but was stopped by the women.
She whispered "don't make a fool of me witch!"
The man pulled her hair back and I left rather quickly. I went to my room. A room I only had to my self because the last foster kid ran away.
I heard a knock. I sat up ready for Mrs.Bankman. But it wasn't her. It was her son, the only kid she actually adopted. He was a tall dark male, who was good at everything. Captain on the swim team, on the A honor roll, low key a closeted bisexual. He was the only person who cared.
"You okay" he asked with worrying eyes.
"I guess" I say not looking up.
"I know it's hard here, and I'm sorry you get so much hate, but-"
"But what! Literally what could you say to make this better!" I shout angrily.
It's quit for a bit then he asks "Wanna hug?"
I was mad and pissed and I wanted to cry, but a hug would be really nice.
"Yes," I pouted.
He walked over to me and gave me a warm hug. As soon as he touched me tears began to stroll down my face. His embrace was so wonderful. He picked me up and began to console me. He shut the door so no one would hear and began rubbing my head. Swaying back and forth. I felt like a little baby and for once that was okay.
"It's okay, you're gonna be okay," he repeated those words over and over, why was he so nice, "you'll be okay, nothings gonna happen while I'm here"
He sat me down on the bed, squatting to my eye level.
"Did you hurt yourself again?"
I wiped the snot from my nose, "yes"
"Where?"
I pointed. He was the only one that cares enough to ask. I felt like shit to disappoint him. "Okay, here's a rubber band. If you wanna cut, slap it against your wrist"
"Why?"
"Because I got you a date next Friday and I don't want my baby sis to show up with cuts down her arm," he smiled.
"I-"
"Oh shoot sorry, they. I'm trying"
He made me giggle.
"There's that smile I've wanted to see, where did it go"
I go quite. He understands.