The Heartthrob Won't Leave

Chapter Thirty-Five (New Chapters)

It had been nearly two weeks since she came to this place, there wasn't necessarily anything wrong with it, it was more the people within it. It appeared that Blake's calm and nervous demeanor made her nothing but a target. They'd snatch her stuff, they'd trip her in the halls and take too long in the bathroom on purpose so she wouldn't have the chance to use it. It felt like hazing, to begin with, Bridget even claimed they had done something similar to her when she first came, but there was only so much that Blake was willing to put up with before they crossed the line that couldn't be uncrossed. After another fairly sleepless night, she found herself sneezing awake as the sun was just rising through the window. It appeared her body wasn't keen on its lack of rest, resulting in a frustrating head cold that had her sneezing and coughing with a nose that felt like coarse sandpaper. She should have been used to it by now, but something about the sheer annoyance made it impossible to ignore. She let a cough rough around her lungs, feeling the burn in her throat.

"Still sick Peanut?" Bridgett asked. She was already sitting at her small makeup table, in the process of applying a thick layer of hot-red lipstick in the mirror.

"At least I got a little sleep" Blake muttered, rubbing her nose. She could already feel the slight pressure at the back of her head that always happened before she got a rocking headache. The pressure in her sinuses felt borderline painful. She wanted nothing more than to collapse back on her pillow and go to sleep, that was going to be the only thing that would make it go away. But, she couldn't. Perhaps it was just out of habit, but she never stayed home when she was sick. Growing up with Karl meant that when you stayed home sick, you were just thrown a list of chores to do, it simply wasn't worth it. I suppose past experience was a benefit that way, this place didn't let anyone stay home from school unless they were literally bed-ridden and incapable of moving without screams of pain, at least that's what Bridgett told her. She didn't know what time it was, but she suspected at least much that it was nearly time to leave, considering Bridgett was already dressed. Blake was still in her sleep clothes, struggling to get down the ladder of the bunk beds and pull out some clothes she could force over her frame to look at least half-decent before she was thrown to the wolves. "

Maybe if you beg on your knees Stacy will take pity on you" Bridgett retorted

"I'm fine" Blake responded. Perhaps she was too tired to even comprehend what Bridget was saying, it was hard to tell. Her brain wasn't working and she knew it, pulling open the door with the clothes bundled between her arms. She walked down the hall, lifting her head to sight the bathroom door shut and the light on.

"Fuck" Blake muttered. For once she found herself not even caring at this point, everything working against her having her head on right that moment had overtaken her. She stood by the bathroom door, closer to the wall, proceeding to let the clothes tumble from her arms onto the floor. She ripped her shirt over her head, no longer caring that she was in a public hallway where another girl could see her at any moment. She forced her bra on, her shirt over her head from the floor, and was just taking off her pants when the bathroom door opened.

"Show some restraint, you slut-" Blake lifted her head to sight the girl. It was Amanda, one of her more active hazers, looking at her with disgust "Perhaps if you didn't present yourself so loosely, I'd be interested to take you for a spin" Her head pounded, and the words in her ears along with it. Perhaps it was the headache, or the pain in her sinuses, or the stuffy nose, maybe it was her lack of sleep. But, something had snapped.

"Do you really think I care?" Blake retorted, and Amanda actually seemed surprised at her retort. Blake dropped her pants, heart pounding against her ribs as she kicked them away with a swing of her bare foot. "Don't make me fucking laugh" Blake could no longer understand what was coming out of her own mouth. But she was angry. 

She was angry at her father, and her brother, she was angry at her mother for leaving her here to suffer. She was angry at Stella for being such a promiscuous slut! She was mad at Zac for suddenly trying to be her friend! She was angry at Lucian for not understanding a single thing about her! For not fighting harder for her. But she was angry at herself more than anyone else, for always being a punching bag, for being the person that everyone else needed her to be rather than who she wanted to be.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the girl retorted, flipping her perfectly curled red hair over her shoulder "Trying on a new mask?"

"Get your head out of your ass" Blake retorted, pulling up her jeans "why the fuck would I waste air on you?" She knew that she was walking right into an incoming train, and for once she was actually okay with that.

"I dare you to speak another word!" Amanda's voice held the clear tint of threat, her eyes widening and a snap-like wild. Blake found herself just looking at the girl, the way her teeth clenched behind her lips. She was at a crossroads, she truly had a choice. She could have just walked away, taking her cloud of anger with her, keeping her feelings locked up for the point of staying within her niche like she always did. But, it wasn't enough. Not anymore. She flung her hand, hitting the makeup bag Amanda held between her hands, watching as it fell to the ground by their feet, the mask applicators spilling out like guts across the carpet.

"I hate you!" Blake found her voice so loud, a yell that even had the hallway light shaking on its metal chain. "I fucking hate you! I hate your hair! I hate your eyes! Your face makes me sick! I get so disgusted thinking about how you even exist here!-" she went off, she didn't even know half of what she was saying. Inside her head stood a mirror, a disgusting mirror with rust on its edges and blood splattered across the glass. She yelled at herself in that mirror 

"I hate that you have hair the color of shit! Your eyes are so lifeless like you already died! Everyone leaves you! Because your garbage, no one wants you!" she found herself losing breathe, heart slamming against her chest and lungs begging for air. "I hate that you can't live a normal life! You can't run away! Instead, your stuck being someone else's bitch and you pretend to be ok with it! Your scum and you've always known it!" 

Yelling at this unsuspecting girl, wide-eyed in the hallway as Blake broke down, falling against the wall against her back, barely able to stay on her feet. She yelled and she cursed, she screamed and she ranted, bitching at nothing and everything. But, she knew those words were not for Amanda, because within that mirror inside her mind she wasn't yelling them at Amanda, but herself, staring at herself. Amanda was nothing but a patsy, who happened to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. And, when she was done, she breathed heavily, having expended all the breathe she had, with more than one pair of eyes on her in that hallway. She had broken from the norm, if only for a moment, but for that moment she was more exhilarated than she had been her entire life.

"But, the thing I hate the most-" she lifted her eyes "Is knowing that you hate me. And wanting nothing more in life than for you to want me" The tears, she didn't understand but they were already falling, cold and wet on her cheeks.

"So please-" she begged, wiping them with the sleeves of her shirt "Just leave me alone"

"Freak!" Amanda snapped, almost appearing afraid of the girl, not even bothering to clean up the makeup on the ground before hurrying to the door of her room and slamming it shut, leaving Blake with the gawking eyes of spectators. Blake felt humiliated, but looking at them staring back at her, what could she do? It had already happened and she couldn't change the past no matter how much she wished. The exhilaration of moments before had faded, and like a child on a sugar rush, it had left behind a state of sadness. All she could do was collect her things from the floor, walk past them back to her room, and shut the door behind her. She got ready for school without a word, and soon enough she was gone from the other girls, watching Bridget wave as she walked away from her down the hall. But, all she could think about, smiling slightly and waving back, if that break she had experienced was who she really was, deep down under all the restrictions of society. Walking down the hall by herself, questioning things she hadn't really considered before.

Am I a bad person?