The pills started working while I was on the way to school, meaning that no one in school saw me struggling with the pain that I was feeling. Pulling up the hood on my jacket, I made my way to my locker, putting the things I didn't immediately need into it, this included my books, a bottle of foundation, and my purse not that there was anything in it. As I arrived at my home room the bell still hadn't rung, so I went inside and sat in the back corner of the room, zoning out, and thinking about nothing in particular. I was interrupted from my daze by someone throwing something at me, looking down at where it landed, I found a note. Taking a deep breath, I unfolded it, read it and then resumed my day dream. the note wasn't important, it was just one of the many people who didn't like me in this school taunting me about something I couldn't change, just like it always was. As I absently sat twiddling with the piece of paper that was just thrown at me the teacher strolled in, and did the usual 'welcome to the year' speech that teachers do every year, letting us know what extracurricular activities we could join in with, none of which I would be attending. All I would be focusing on is training with Joe, avoiding conflict, maintaining good grades, and keeping a clean record. Since going to college is the only way I can get out of this torture without my dad coming after me I have to do everything I can to give myself a chance
The day went by slowly with the usual snide remark from the cheerleaders and the odd shove from the jocks in the corridors, which was nothing unusual, apparently I pissed someone off at some point, and now they bully me, well I say bullying, it's more shitty comments that aren't funny and rumours that most of the time made up. Everyone else pretty much avoids me, which suits me fine.
I usually go for sitting on the bleachers at lunch time; I had self-preservation skills which told me that going anywhere near the canteen would be a disaster knew the jocks wouldn't mess with me while they were training, because their coaches would give them stick for it. Before I went there though I stopped by the library and rented a CD, as I browsed the shelves I spotted 'Someday We Will Foresee Obstacles' by Syd Matters, picking it up I took the cd and a Walkman to sit outside. As the songs played, I allowed my mind to get lost in the songs as they came on, imagining myself happy, with a dad who didn't do what mine does, I wonder what it's like to feel loved.
As I shuffle around on my seat I realise that I am starting to feel the pain again, and that it is difficult for me to sit on my bruises for long, reaching into my bag for my pain medication, I feel someone looking at me, and glance around to see who it is. That's when I lock eyes with Logan Boehm one of Aron's friends, and one of the more alternative looking of the jocks, but as soon as I spot him, he pushes his shoulder length hair out of his face, and looks away. Confused I go back to thinking about my shambles of a life, when I remember that I am going training with Joe later, bringing a small smile to my face.
The bell rings and with a smile on my face I go to my next lesson letting it fly by. Having taken my medication, I head to my final lesson of the day P.E, I make sure that I change in the bathrooms so that no one can see my injuries. My kit consists of some full length track pants, and a hooded jumper. Making sure that my hair is tied up properly, I make my way into class to find that the classes have been mixed, so the boys are in the gym with the girls. Taking a deep breath, I went to stand against the wall. The teachers come in blowing their whistles, telling us to get into two teams, and that we will be playing basketball. When the teams were chosen, I was strangely not the last to be picked. I walked to the side of the court that I should have been on. While I stood and waited for the game to begin, I got the feeling someone was watching me again, and when I turned around I was again greeted by the thoughtful gaze of Logan Boehm, furrowing my eyebrows I turned around, pretending that I hadn't noticed him looking, however the sensation did not go away.
By the end of the game I was panting, but not because I was playing along; it was because I was dodging the basketball as it flew towards my head and each time I dodged, my ribs would jar a little. I regretted not bringing my painkillers with me, knowing that the added pressure would make the tablets run out part way through the lesson. When the match ended I sighed, frustrated at myself for not thinking to take more before I went in. while I was doing this I was not paying attention, because I tripped over something. My battered body colliding with the dusty wooden floor caused a bang that stopped almost everyone in the class to stop and look over. As I lay there trying to blink the pain away, hoping the stars that floated around my eyes would dissipate soon, I looked up at what I tripped on, I saw a foot, clad in bright white Adidas shoes, following the leg up, skimming past the other designer clothes that I could see I finally found the face that was attached to the foot. Looking up I found what everyone else in school was jealous of, her perfect blonde hair, her teeth straightened and bleached to within an inch of their lives, her small nose, and her 'flawless' foundation covered skin. The thing I had tripped on was Gemma Locke's foot, which she had stuck out in my way.
"Woops, didn't see you there," she sneered down at me, flipping her hair she strutted away, taking her minions with her to talk to some of the popular boys who watched laughing, along with the rest of the class. Gemma Locke is the most popular girl in my grade. She is the typical cheerleader, with long blonde hair, short skirts and low cut tops, she has every boy hanging off her every word, meaning that she can take her pick of who she dates, but she takes special interest in the guys off the football team making her way quickly through the entire team. Gemma has made a habit of ensuring that my life is a misery, which to her means tripping me, and making cruel comments, and since she is the 'it girl' of my year, this also means that the jocks don't like me either, but generally their torture is more physical, so between them I have the whole range of psychological, and physical torment.
"Sure you didn't" I mumbled sarcastically as I got up off the floor slowly, and with both classes watching, I took several deep breaths and walked towards the changing rooms so that I could change and then leave for training. As I took the steps to the changing rooms, I heard sniggering, and one of Gemma's minions say
"well I hear that her parents are sending her to boarding school so they don't have to deal with her shit anymore." At that my step slowed, and I took a deep breath, before I started walking to leave again. I got changed in the bathroom again, and left without hearing anything from anything else until I got to the school gates, where Logan was leaning against them, as I passed him, he called out
"you shouldn't listen to them you know," I turned to look at him,
"I don't" I called back to him and I hurried past.
As I arrived at the gym Joe waved me over with a big smile. "Hey squirt," he smiled patting me on the head then looking down at me "your dad stopped by and told me about your fall, saying that you probably wouldn't, be training" he raised his eyebrows at me "so we are going to watch someone else train, you can get tips from him" I nodded as he leads me over to some matts and I sat on the edge, watching him practice. After a while he must have gotten bored, as he turned to me, looking me up and down.
"You must be the kid that Joes been going on about. I'm Nate" I nod my head raising my eyebrow in Joes direction; he just smiles and walks away.
"I'm Scarlett" I say, smiling a little. The fighter beckons me over, and I oblige, getting up slowly and walking to be stood in front of him. As he looked at me, I took in his appearance properly, he was tall, and slim, but muscular I could see rippling under his skin; whenever he moved, he did so with a sort of grace and surety; I was sure that if he wanted he could tear me to pieces. He had dark hair, left unruly over his head, and an angular face. His nose was straight and his jaw chiselled, he didn't look much older than me, but he must have been good if Joe was getting him to teach me even though he didn't look more than two or three years older than me. Walking around me, he analyses my posture, leaving me to feel awkward for a moment before speaking again.
"I know you're injured, so I'm just going to do the stuff that won't hurt you, okay." I nodded not really sure of what he could show me without injuring me further. "okay drop into your defensive position, raise your arms, higher, good, lower your head, always protect your throat at all times, if someone hits you in the throat, it's gunna be pretty fucking hard to breath." I nodded and corrected my stance while he went on coaching me through this position, before carrying on to coach me through how to hold roughly 6 other stances that would allow me to block, and attack with ease. When he had finished coaching me, he let me leave making sure I understood the rules that he had set that day "recite them" he demanded looking me square in the eye.
"Protect your throat, fight with your head and your fists, always stay on your feet." I rattled off the rules. He masked a small smile on his face, while I told him what I had learned.
As I went to leave I hears joe asking how I had done "I think I've just found myself a project" I could hear the smile in the voice but I didn't get to hear Joe's response as I walked through the door to go home.
When I made it home I opened the door, and looked up to see my mother, raising my eyebrows in surprise I murmur "hi Mom" before rushing upstairs to avoid angering my father.
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Memoirs Of a survivor
Action"You're an animal, you're a dog, you will always be a dog, and there's nothing you can do to change that" "You will do as you're told" "Come here and clean this up" All comments that had been shouted at Scarlett Fletcher. Her school life is bad, a...
