Social Suicide

Chapter 1

Beep Beep Beep

Ugh, Another day other wrist cut. I wake up and get out of my sleeping bag because my parents 'cant afford' a mattress even though we live in a huge three story. I walk over to my small 3 by four closet and get a black sweat shirt and black 'skinny' jeans and change into them. I brush my hair with the shitty broken Walmart brush that my parents got me five years ago when they loved me. I am only a Junior in high school an yet It still feels like an eternity

I walk over to my backpack and swing it around my shoulders. Before I leave my room I grab a the pair of sharp purple scissors that I use every day. I open my door and walk down two flights of stairs.

"Move fat ass." My sister pushes me out of the way as we walk into the kitchen. I reach my hand out to grab a piece of bacon but my hand is slapped away by my mother. "You don't need that fat ass. Take a apple or something healthy you really need it." She glares at me. I don't grab anything. I just put my old,ripped, Vans and walk into the garage.

I walk over to my paint pealing, 2004, Toyota corolla. While my Brother has a Lambo and my sister has a Ferrari. I put they keys in and try to start the engine but it doesn't work at first but after three tries it does. I back out of the garage.

I drive to school and park in the furthest spot from everyone else. I got out of my car and purposely break the key in the lock. I throw the key chain off into a bush somewhere. I walk over to the school and pull my hood over my head and my sleeve over my hands and into the pocket I grab the pair on scissors in my left hand and held them up to my wrist just to be ready.

"Why is she still here." "Shes so goddamn fat how is she walking?" I hear the snickers from the other students. I fell a hand on my shoulder spin me around. Before i could tell who it was I was punch really hard in the face. It wasn't a hand though it was rough, cold, metal. Brass knuckles, someone punched me in the face with brass fucking knuckles."How pathetic I don't know how I am related to you." My sister, Britney May Jones say as she grabs my hair and throws me against the lockers.

I feel liquid poring down my wrists, the scissors, when she punched me i must have cut my self. Oh well.. not. I slightly hear the bell ring and Ashley's voice. "Come on Brit lets get to class I don't want to have to pay Mr. Gordon again." I watch as her and Britney walk away. I open my eyes all the way and try to stand up and almost fall till a pair of arms catch me.

I turn around to see Jackson Hill staring at me with concern in his eyes. "Are you okay." He asks. I don't say anything, I grab my bag and walk to the bathroom where he cant come into. I roll my sleeve up so see my whole arm covered in blood. I grab a paper towel and hold it over the cut. My vision is going a little bit blurry but after the bleeding stops it goes back to normal. I grab a bandage from my backpack. I have a small first aid kit just in case I need it.

I grab my backpack from the sink and go to Mrs. Smiths math class for home room. "Isabella Jones you are very late please come up to the front and explain and collect a detention slip.

I groan and walk up to the front of the class and stand in front of he white board. "I had to use the restroom and I came in late because I had car troubles." I stare at the floor and walk over to Mrs. Smith's desk and grab the detention slip from her hands.

I walk back to the back of the class and sit down in the closest seat to the door and it just so happens it's right next to Jackson, even though he's a Sophomore Im still in his class because I take sophomore math because I completed Junior math and the District wanted to challenge me but senior math was to hard because I didn't know sophomore leveled math.

"You didn't answer me are you OK." he looked at me. I do have to admit it but he is cute. His dark brown messy hair from his bike helmet. His chocolate boom eyes shine with concern at me as I just stare at the front of the class ignoring both the teacher and him, but I make him think I am paying attention even though I am not.

I write down random things in my notebook to make it look like I am paying attention when I'm not. All I am writing are sad poems about my thoughts.

The door knocks and Principal Wilson walks in with a police officer."Isabella come with us dear. We have some news"
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So there you have it I know I am failing to update the tpatbg but I am really in love with the concept and idea of the story and I hope you guys like it
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