「 𝘽𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨」

Chapter 1 - Bloody Knuckles

(3,416 words) Adylene's POV:

Being a Junior in high school was hard. Much harder than Freshman year or Sophomore year. The homework load was so extremely heavy, and teachers kept talking about our future plans, college, careers, and I was so done hearing about it.

College was out of the question for me and going into a career that I genuinely liked was even less of a possibility.

Sometimes I wished that I didn't have to continue high school after finishing Freshie year. But then again nothing that we wish truly does come true.

High school was oddly similar to my home life. Nothing that I ever did was enough.

After everything I tried to do to get my dad to be proud of me, he usually never was.

A loud rough voice yelling cut my own thoughts off before I could finish them.
"You gettin' on?"

My head snapped up to look at the bus driver. "Yeah, sorry." I muttered quickly racing up the steps of the bus, the double doors closing behind me with a squeak and bang.

I made it to the back of the bus where there were luckily seats left.

Taking the bus to school was a necessity since my dad wasn't going to drive me to school and even though I had my driver's license, a second car was definitely out of dad's pay grade.

It took the bus roughly fifteen minutes to reach the bus stop near my school.

From there it was an exact three-minute walk to the entrance of school.

The closer I got to school the more noise I heard, loads of chattering around the steps and double doors of the school and once I opened the doors my ears were suddenly immersed into even louder noises.

I cringed as my ears started ringing. Some days it wasn't this bad, sometimes I could deal with the noise but most days... it was like this.

White noise filled my ears on top of all the loud talking and slamming of lockers and I squeezed my eyes shut momentarily trying to close everything out.

Shaking my head, I quickly made it farther and farther into the hallways quickly collecting books from my locker and then heading to homeroom. After homeroom was English.

It wasn't my best subject. I didn't do well with putting my feelings into words or my thoughts into sentences. And even when I did, they didn't sound how I wanted or perfectly how I felt.

So, that was one of the many reasons I got a very impressive overall -C in English.

Yeah... I definitely wasn't showing my dad that grade.

I personally didn't really care, as long as it was a passing grade it was okay for me.

Math was what my brain was good at. I loved how it didn't change on me. I could always rely on the properties and equations since they never changed the way I could solve them. However, in English, I had to 'this' but when 'that' happened I couldn't do 'this' anymore, there were exceptions. I didn't like exceptions, they always tricked me, and I knew they were purposely trying to trick me and that made me even more mad.

And of course, with my luck, my English teacher was also horrible as well.

"Ms. Miller." My English teacher gave nod in my direction with a slight frown on his face. Clearly, he wasn't happy to see me, and I could say the feeling was mutual.

"Mr. Adams." I muttered back.

I headed to the back of the classroom before all the prime seats were taken and pulled out my spiral bound notebook for English. My name was messily scrawled in the first page of the binder but most of the pages were left empty since I tended to do more daydreaming then listening during this class.