Long Sleeves are my Friend [Complete]

Chapter 3 ✔

[Edited]

I rush toward the bathroom, bursting through the door. I enter finally letting the tears spill. I glance at my reflection. I look into the green eyes, once full of color and life but are dull. What have I done to deserve this? Why did people have to mess with me? What makes me so unlikeable?

'You're ugly!'

'You're fat!'

'You're a whore just like your mother!'

'You are a waste of fucking space!'

'Just kill yourself already!'

All these words start flooding my mind, drowning me in my thoughts. I pull up my sleeve, looking at my arm as more tears flow down my cheeks. Scars litter my arm and fresh scabs are crusted over. I pick at the scabs, trying to get some type of relief, but none came.

What have I become? What would Lydia think of me know? But why does it matter? She's not here anymore and never will be. It's my fault. If I didn't distract her...she would still be here. If I wasn't so stupid I wouldn't be dead.

It's all my fault. Everything is always my fault.

I look at my wet and slightly matted hair from the unknown liquid. I grimace at the smell of chocolate milk. I turn the water on trying to rinse and brush through the knots.

Once I'm sort of satisfied with the results, I pull my hood over and tuck my hair in.

I push the door and start to head down the hall.

I jump when I feel a tight grip on my forearm. I wince from the already formed bruises and look up into the piercing eyes of my brother, making fear washes over me.

"I saw you were staring at that guy. You like him or something? Think he can help you? Fat-fucking-chance. You know what dad would think? Maybe if he hits you enough you'll finally understand nobody will ever like you or care about you. You're gonna be alone for the rest of your miserable life," he spits with so much hate lacing his tone. I cower slightly, trying to get out of his grasp. I know I've heard him say these things before but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I stare at him without saying a word. His grips tighten, and a low whimper escapes me. He glares at me, but it then turns into a frown, noticing some people in the hall. He drags me down the hall, towards the entrance of the school. Once we exit the building we continue to his car.

We abruptly stop and turns me to face him, glaring in my face.

"You will speak to me when you are spoken to bitch! Maybe I should take you home and teach you a lesson now you fucking whore!" He whisper-yells and starts digging his fingers harder into my arm, a yelp escaping my lips. He grumbles when I continue to stay silent. He grumbles, starting to pull me to the side of the car.

"S-Shouldn't I finish my day first?" I say, barely audible but he hears me turning around facing me with an angry expression.

"You think you can tell me what to do?! Why do you think I should do that?" He tuts with a smirk growing on his face.

"The teachers...they might get suspicious if I'm n-not in class the first day, when I was t-this morning," I stammer out, trying to reason with him, to hopefully delay the inevitable. He narrows his eyes at me for a moment before releasing me. I retract my arm quickly pulling it to my chest, trying to relieve the pain.

"Fine. But don't think you're getting out of it, I'll see you at home," He taunts with a chuckle while walking back into the school.

I stay still for a moment, taking everything in. I feel my heart drop knowing the beating I'm going to get when I get home. I sigh before starting to head back into the school. I notice a guy leaning on a car and feel my eyes widen. Did he see everything? He is looking dead at me with a stoic expression on his face.