The Girl With Tattoos • Original Version

The Girl With Tattoos (6)

This school was normal in my eyes. It was loud, kids constantly walking around, laughing and talking to their friends. Doing their own thing.

And so was I.

Fourth period just ended, which meant lunch then two more dreadful classes to finish.

I stuffed my textbooks into my locker, slamming it shut, and before I could even turn around to walk away, the girl that stood just a few feet away from me genuinely scared me. This girl might as well tattoo 'don't come near if you don't want to be sucked into drama' on her forehead because she screamed Queen Bitch of Drama.

Hoping she had no shit against me, which probably isn't true as I am new, I made my way toward the lunch room. But the light tapping of heels behind me said something different.

It got louder and louder, closer and closer until I felt a little tap on my shoulder.

This might as well be a horror movie starring a cliche popular girl.

"Excuse me?"

I turned around to see a huge, obviously fake, smile plastered on her face. Let me say, she wants to be fake. Her skin looked flawless, lips the color of blood and her cheeks looked sharper than a knife. Long, dark brown hair with dirty blonde highlights throughout the thickness covered her entire right side and her hazel eyes with specks of green danced with mischief as they moved up and down, taking up my entire body.

"Hi! Let me guess. The new girl, right? I'm Becky," She smiled at me before sighing.

I quickly nodded before playing with the rim of my twenty one pilot's shirt.

"Good. Do you know Bann? Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes. Overall, extremely hot."

What?

Shrugging, it seemed the whole hallway stopped what they were doing to snoop on our one-way conversation. Everyone around us had the same look in their eyes; fear. Not one person in this damn hallway seemed surprised though, like whoever this girl was, this was a normal occurrence. And if it was, it stops today because the meaningless drama was not for me.

"Well, when you do meet him, keep in mind that he is completely off limits. Owned by me. And if I see you even breathe the same air as him, your life will be ruined in the cause of my hands. Got it, bitch?" I rolled my eyes under my glasses, hoping her stupid lecture about her boyfriend was over. Boy, was I wrong. "We are the number one couple in school. The prettiest girl for the hottest boy. Get it? It's practical politics. Come near my reputation and you won't have one."

What is he? A fucking dog?

She looked down at her red nails before glancing up.

"Um, aren't you ganna cower away in defeat or at least say a pitiful okay like the pitiful bitch you are?" The look on her face was pure disgust. When I didn't say anything, she scoffed. Was I doing something wrong? And what the hell did I do to get on her bad side like damn, I just arrived. Becky, or as I would like to call her, Drama Bitch, made a weird sound and eyed one of her friends who was just standing there like a Christmas decoration ready to be admired. The dark-haired girl wrapped her long fingers around one of their chins, and pulled her head down forcefully, whispering nothingness into her ear.

What the hell am I still doing here.

I quickly rolled my eyes and tried to walk away but the purple-haired girl who was just literally just abused by her friend pulled on my arm and stomped on my right foot, making me hunch over in agony as the heel of her shoe dug into the skin. I was too busy focusing on the sharp pain crawling its way up my leg to dodge Becky as she reached upward and snatched my glasses right off my face, her nail purposely scratching my face near my eye.

"I want to see your ugly fa-" She paused as she looked me dead in the eye, looking more confused than shocked, but I can't say the same for her two friends standing behind her like puppets. Their eyes were wide and the only look I can make out in their frozen faces were complete and utter surprise.

So much for trying to keep my eyes safe under those damn glasses.

Becky regained her composure, clearing her throat and smiling like she owned me.

"Nice contacts. Did you get them from Walmart along with the sunglasses?" She smirked before snapping them in half and throwing them on the ground. "Consider this a visual representation of what would happen if you get in my way."

She turned to walk away but she had another thing coming. I tapped her on the shoulder and when she came to face me, another smirk plastered on her lipstick covered lips, my fist collided with her eye. Becky stumbled back and screamed a little as she nudged her friends forward. The little crowd that once stood around us was now a full-on audience.

"You fucking bitch!" The purple haired girl screamed as she glanced at the girl on the floor. She ran at me, ready to tackle like she was a football player but I quickly sidestepped her and kicked her back, making her land face first on the tile. When she sat up, blood trickled down her face from her nose while some stained the floor.

Some people chanted fight, fight, fight while others recorded and laughed. Some stood in the background awkwardly watching it unfold.

Becky was still recovering from my not-so-hard punch while the grape was leaning against the lockers cupping her broken nose.

The last girl looked between Becky and Miss Grape and stepped back a bit, not wanting anything to do with the fight. Sorry. My foot raised just a little to kick her into the crowd, who stepped back and let the ground catch her. Hopeful that the little kitty fight was over, I picked up my broken glasses and peered down at their remains. The crowd seemed to go dead silent, causing me to look up and see them staring behind me in horror. A few kids ran from the scene and through the hall as the rest split and resumed their activities.

Oh my god. There's a faceless murderer behind me.

I slowly turned around and a wide neck was directly in front of me.

Who is this?

I looked up and the owner of the neck wore the worst kind of poker face; the one where it seemed he gave no flying fucks about what happened to me, him or anyone 5 miles from us. His black hair was cut to the root, the little hairs sticking up from his head. But his eyes caught me. A mixture of blue and green to create a beautiful art piece shimmering in his eyes. It was almost like a battle; one eye, the blue side is dominating while green was swirled in, almost unseen. But, his left eyes showed a different war. Green flowed freely throughout the orbs, blue specks of hopeful soldiers who think they can win. It was absolutely breathtaking.

And I would be mesmerized if it wasn't for what lurked in the blue and green oceans of color.

Hatred and power ran through the colors as they looked into mine and it seemed they passed my forbidden walls, seeing my soul.

"Ma'am, please follow me," It was then that I realized he had a name tag hanging from his shirt pocket. 'Sam.' What an innocent name for him. The words 'assistant principal' was underneath his bold name with a picture of him with long hair directly beside it.

Dammit. Did I just get in trouble again?