Downright Delinquents

Chapter Eight

One look at my face had me vomiting a little in my mouth. I cringed away from the mirror instinctively. Other than looking like crap, I felt it too. My face was swollen and felt like it was double the size it normally was. My left eye was puffy and a wicked shade of purple. I had a slight purple streak sashed across my jaw. The base of my neck throbbed, as though someone had stood on my head in an attempt to crush my skull.

I washed my face, the cool water feeling soothing on my throbbing skin. I winced slightly as I began to gently wipe the excess water away. I bit my lip as I leaned forward heavily on the sink, staring at my reflection, trying not to gag at what I saw. My poor body. It has endured through so much this past year.

I didn't exactly want to go into civilisation looking like I had been mugged. So, having the school on lockdown was actually a blessing. We were banished from the halls to our rooms, (practically cells), to stay there for twenty-four hours. So, saying this place was similar to a Prison, would be spot on. Also, without food.

As if my thoughts triggered my stomach, it rumbled loudly. I pressed my hand to it, gritting my teeth. They told us they would come around with water every couple of hours. Other than that, we were to stay couped up in our rooms. I sighed wearily, feeling utterly exhausted. I can't sleep as usual. I was too uptight, drained, and too miserable. 

Dragging my feet with me as I exited the bathroom, I doubled over and twisted my long, brunette hair into a messy bun on the top of my head. I brushed gingerly at my face, to rid any stray strands that had refused to be tied back. I made a face as my thumb jabbed the corner of my mouth. I guess I would have to take it easy for the next couple of days.

I glanced over at Imogen who was still passed out, face first, on her bed. I cocked my head to the side, staring at her in amusement. If only I could go into a coma, like her. Nothing woke that girl. 

How could they have sent me here?

I know I got high a lot, drunk, and hooked up with random men at bars that I was too young to get into. I was a troubled, damaged girl that had just been screaming for attention. I hadn't wanted this. I could have been fixed.

Sighing heavily through my nose, I squeezed my eyes shut. I sucked in a breath as pain skittered through the left side of my face. I groaned, face-palming myself, my forehead being the only unbruised part of my face.

The desperate desire to go back in time was growing stronger every day.

<><><><><><>

I was sprawled out on my bed, my head dangling off the mattress upside down, when there was a knock at the door. My eyes popped open and I stared at Imogen, who was also laying down on her bed, finally awake, making this experience a little more bearable.

She leaped to her feet and padded to the door, wrenching it open. I rolled over and peered around her, seeing who it was.

A guard, of course.

"Food?" I croaked out, my voice coming out hoarse and raspy. I mentally kicked myself.

He kept his face impassive like all the guards liked to. His eyes swept over my face and he frowned, giving me a dirty look. 

"Water."

I began muttering some profanities under my breath as Imogen grabbed the two bottles from him. She turned on her heel, slamming the door in his face. I was so hungry. It felt like my stomach was eating itself.

I really shouldn't have skipped lunch yesterday...

Imogen rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She threw the bottle at me and it landed beside me on the bed. I gave a little nod in thanks, before chugging it down in mouthfuls. I was never a fan of the forty-hour-famine. I would always go without something else. Food was too precious to give up. Just thinking about it, made my stomach churn uncomfortably. I felt my eyes sting slightly as frustrated tears threatened to release.