Violet Cartel is the mysterious, new addition to South High, With a mean right hook and a past that keeps her from staying for too long in one place, will she finally face her fears and fight the ghosts of her past?
She's a sassy bad-ass but when he...
As the early morning sun shone through my curtains, I let out a soft yawn and prepared myself for the rising day. Dust fairies dance in the air above my head and birds sing - their songs pull my rested body up and out of bed.
RIIIIIINGG-FUCKING HELL GIMME A BREAK! Yeah right, you thought.
My name is Violet Cartel and as you probably already know, I'm not a morning person - now I think about it, I've never been a morning person.
Today is my first day at South High School and I can't wait to make new friends so that we can braid each other's hair. Or not, but ya know, each to their own. 'God', I thought, I really couldn't be bothered, but I guess the faster I get up, the faster the day will be over and the faster I'll be basking in the glory I find comfort in at the 'the Underground'.
Moving to New York had been a last-minute thing, after I heard about 'The Underground' from some guys I met in juvey I knew this would be the perfect place to remain off the grid while still continuing to do what I do best. It's a long story: where I come from and why I need to 'lay low' so to say.... anyway, like I said - faster I get up, faster the day will be over. I quickly take a shower, washing my blond locks with what was left of my dad's favourite shampoo - I use it because it reminds me of when times were easy and he would hug me to his solid chest. It would be after dinner: the fire would be crackling and my dad would be sat by the ambient flames on his worn out, leather armchair. I would walk into the living room, my 6-year-old innocence evident by the much-loved blanket in my little hands. My dad would look up from the dogeared hardback held in his hands and he would pat his lap; crawling up against him, he would read his book aloud to me - the sound of his deeply calming voice carrying me off to dreamland.
Realising the time while drying myself off, I rush into some sweats and a plain white t-shirt, pairing the look with my signature black, leather jacket and worn-out combat boots.
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Continuing on through my daily routine, I rush downstairs and grab a protein/energy bar from a random kitchen cupboard.
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Checking the time I realise I'm late. I'm not usually tryn'a get to school super early, it's just I wanna make an entrance on my pride and joy, she's a Ninja Kawasaki ZX 6R and she's a beautiful beast. Going to school is nerve-wracking for some and a time for stating their popularity claim to others, for me, I'm only here because I have to be. Otherwise, I'm too bored to stay at home, so I'm roughing it on the streets with the other street rats whose sole mission is to befriend you so that they can turn around and steal your shoes... Although it seems like I have it easy, with my new york flat and my nice clothes, and if you don't count the struggle to stay hidden from the bad people chasing after me, then it is. However, living a life of solitude can be tough - it's a lonely lifestyle but it's necessary, I can't risk trusting anybody, and if I do happen to find someone worthy, they just end up hurt - or worse.
