Bully Proof

Chapter One

Let's start with when I woke up. When everything went wrong.

Before we start, you should know that it was my birthday. January 2. The day I turned fifteen. The day we came back from winter break. The day I also got my period.

I woke up, and got ready for school, immediately heading for the bathroom and putting in a tampon. This part is pretty boring, actually, as it's just like what every other child does. Well, in the United States. I'm not sure about other places.

The usual routine took place, aside from the fact that I was incessantly coughing. My parents were asleep, and my younger sisters were too because they didn't have school until later, and I tried desperately not to wake them up from my coughs. High school started earlier than the others, even though it shouldn't have, which is why my sisters were still sleeping. We high school kids were preparing for college; we needed all the sleep we could get.

Another thing you should know about me: I skipped a grade. I was a sophomore, going in at fourteen and leaving at fifteen. You see, I wasn't smart or anything. The grades and schedules and stuff - whatever document that tells someone what grade they should be in - got messed up when I was in middle school because there was a huge fire. The heating vents were so old that something didn't work correctly, and over half the school caught on fire. No one was there, thank goodness, which is why the damage was so bad. Someone must have drove by and saw it. Otherwise, I don't know what would have happened.

I also didn't like to get caught up in Memory Land. Bad things lurked there. Things I wished weren't there.

Anyway, back to the present.

I left the house and walked to the bus stop, still coughing as though my life depended on it. The only peaceful part of my day takes place at the bus stop, but it seemed as though even my body was screwing me over on my birthday because there sure wouldn't be any peace as long as I kept hacking up disgusting phlegm. My peace time is normally in the morning, for five minutes, when no one is around to bother me.

The bus casually rolled around, carrying the demon kids, also known as my fellow classmates. One of them was Claire. She was the queen of the demons, who came straight from the underworld just to make my life a living hell.

Anyway, I climbed the bus steps and plopped my butt in the seat next to Claire, coughing into my elbow so she didn't literally scream and shove me off of the seat. She looked at me and rolled her eyes while scooting a little closer to the window. You're the one who wanted me to sit here, who wanted me to run after you and do everything. I'm practically your slave, I thought as she went back to fixing her makeup.

Another thing you should know: Claire is a terrible student. She got held back, so she already had her license/permit thing. She was a sophomore going in at sixteen and leaving at seventeen. There was a two year difference between us. Maybe that's why she chose to pick on me in the first place.

I looked away, toward the other side of the bus, and sighed. Already, Claire was being a witch. I mean, there was no surprise there, but I was just hoping for her to be just a little nicer, maybe as a birthday present.

Not everyone's dreams come true.

As the bus neared the school, Claire tapped my shoulder, "Did we have any homework?"

I looked at her, internally groaned, and went to reply by saying, "Yes," but all I ended up doing was accidentally coughing in her face,

I immediately shielded my mouth from leaking any germs onto her and I also shielded my face. I didn't want to get punched, hit, or slapped today. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for doing that. Please don't hurt me," I begged, my face scrunched up and ready for the impact of her hand.

Instead of hitting me, she took the back of my neck and shoved my head forward, causing my face to slam into the seat in front of me. I was thankful for not ever getting bloody noses because I felt like I definitely would have gotten one if I got them as often as normal people did.

I didn't look at her as I told her, "Yes, we had homework, but it's all done." If you don't answer her when she talks to you, you get a slap at the least. Maybe you get some spit in your face if she's having a good day. In any case, I was terrified of her.

What I said before wasn't really the right answer. I mean,we didn't have homework; I did. I did her homework as well as jotted down her notes. I helped her cheat on tests. I really was her servant, her slave, who did anything and everything she wanted.

Over what? Some stupid grade.

Why couldn't I disobey? Her threats scared the living fajitas out of me. I knew she wasn't afraid to whip me back in my place.

Why didn't I tell anyone? It would put them at risk.

We walked off the bus and headed to our first class, one we shared. I sat next to her, which made it all too easy for her to pull my leash tighter, although she loosened it a little bit each time I coughed.

I sat down, got my stuff out, and looked to my right at the person next to me. My, did I wish I wasn't there.

The bell rang, and last-minute kids spilled into the room.

The day of my doom had officially begun.