The fallen Angel (Robin Arellano)

[fucking 'noid']

.........

"Shit!" I gasp awake at my alarm, slapping the button over and over until it shuts up.

8:52am It read.

School starts at 9am.

"Fuckkk" I groan, dragging myself out of bed. An aching sensation scratching at my hip from laying on the injured side.

I fell asleep around 5am because of Vance's stupid music. How in the world he can sleep through that i have no idea.

Speaking of Vance.

The fucking shithead didn't even bother to wake me up on time.

I tiredly rub my eyes, stumbling over to my dresser. My hands rummage around carelessly before finally picking out an oversized shirt and a pair of flared jeans.

Simple but cute.

I pull off my 'pjs' and slip into my chosen outfit as well as sliding on my shoes. I grab my backpack from the end of my bed and tiptoe into the bathroom.

It wasn't exactly early, but fuck knows whether dad's home or not.

I glance into the mirror and cringe almost instantly. My hair wasn't the problem, surprisingly it was looking good.

It was my face.

Dried up mascara clumped around my eyes. Red eyes might i add, thanks to my lovely brother making it almost impossible to fall asleep.

I pick up my toothbrush, quickly scrubbing my teeth squeaky fucking clean before washing my face.

That's a little better.

The mascara was now gone, only to discover the dark eye bags that were hiding beneath.

Never fucking mind then.

I walk out of the bathroom, slinging my bag over my shoulder, caring less to apply any makeup.

I'll do it at school.

I quietly walk down the stairs, my hands nervously gripping at the railing. I finally step onto the wooden floor.

I reach the front door, my fingers only just caressing the handle before a voice breaks the haunting silence.

"Wait" A deep voice orders.

Shit.

"I'm gonna be late...dad" I whisper, my voice trying not to bite out the last word.

He was no father of mine.

"I got a call yesterday" He slowly walks closer, "From the school"

His footsteps stop, his voice dangerously close behind me. I don't reply, my fingers begin to tighten on the handle until it starts to ache.

"Look at me when i'm speaking!" He shouts, his hand reaching out to grab me.

I pull the door open, only just slipping out of his grasp as i run. I run as fast as my legs can carry me.

I don't turn around until I reach the school gates, my lungs begging for air as my throat burns painfully.

I breath in desperately as i lean against the cool metal, the shape of the bars indenting into my back. Small amounts of air enters my mouth, but leaves just as quickly as it arrived.

I slide down the hard metal until i'm resting on the floor, my legs pulled up close. My shaky hand rests on my chest, almost as if trying to claw my skin open to let some air in.