60 Days with Ben (Completed)

Chapter 1

 One of the disadvantages of being the daughter of the English teacher in her class is that she is your mother. Another disadvantage is that she has been an executioner for half of the students in the school, and therefore, half of them hate you. I have lived in that situation since I started the high school. My bottle background glasses still help me on suffering 90% of the bullying at school.

In my room, I had a small mirror that allowed me to look at my face. I never cared much about my appearance as other girls did. The trials and tribulations of what was and was not in fashion did not bother me. Therefore, I never saw the point in having a big mirror in my room. As long as I could see well enough to tie my hair back in a traditional ponytail, seeing anything more of myself did not matter, I put on my glasses, and my ebony black eyes stared back at me in the mirror, indifferent. Some visible freckles were dotting on the face, like splatters from an ink pen, a mistake, too starkly contrasting with the paper white of my skin. I looked pale and thin, no matter what I tried I was never able to gain weight.

"Good morning, mom!" I said sitting in the chair.

More often than expected, I was met with silence as my mother never bothered to speak to me; she was too wrapped up in her world, held hostage by her thoughts. Who could blame her, after my birth my father left her. She was forced to provide for me, working shift after shift, just to make enough money to live. She no longer was a woman of vitality, and an air of haggard vacancy clung to her. Mostly, I lived the first 16 years of my life with my grandmother. She was more of a mother to me than anybody else was, and now, after her death six months ago, I am lost, stuck in an endless cycle of repetition. Day in day out it is the same: I spend half the day at school and half the day in my room, reading books or watching TV.

I always go to the school by car with my mother. It is torture when I am getting out of the car, and half of the school's students stare at me. Haven't they gotten tired of it yet? I slammed the door as I got out of the car.

"Hey, young lady! Is that what I taught you?" My mother shouted, still inside the car, while some students laughed at my expense.

"I'm sorry, Mother," I said, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. I entered school with my head down. I pressed my books against my body and kept walking.

The first torture I had already faced, now I had to go through the second: The Sea of People, this is one of the worst. Hear the people's making fun of about the way you look, laughing behind your back is not cool. I climbed the school ladder running, I entered my classroom, and I sat in the usual place. I always sit in the first chair in the second row on the right side of it. Teacher's daughter= Smart student, = Disciplined student, and also because the chair stays next to the door.

No one was in the classroom yet, of course, they had a lot to talk to each other. What would be the reason to be in a hurry to come to class? Unless you are one of the college freaks, that way, you have to find somewhere to hide; this was mine. No, it was not perfect but was what I had.

After some minutes concentrated on the book of Agatha Christie, appeared the only salvation I had with this school. Carla, my best friend. We have known each other since ever. We are inseparable, except for the fact that we were not studying in the same class this year. My mother knew that she could do that, change Carla or me from class, but she refused to do it. It was the way of my mother to be my mother.

"Hey, the creature that I love, are you hiding from the world, again?" Carla said, taking off my glasses.

"Give me back this. You know that I do not see without it," I said taking the glasses and putting it back on my face.