hate me

1 | eye contact

her pov
there is my headache again.
i slowly make my way into the bathroom. i open the door to the toilet on the right side. only at this side nobody can hear you. the ventilation shaft is just too loud. i stumble inside turn around and close the wooden door. i sit on the toilet and feel my head getting tortured. i am completely full of pain. mental pain.

i am diagnosed with depression through abuse, bullying and the death of my mother.

yeah, she died. 4 months ago.

since that, my father fell for alcohol, he changed. this shit changed him. he's a whole new man.
he's always coming home late, smelling like he drank tons of shots. sometimes he, he-

yeah, he just screams at me, sometimes he shows his aggressions in other ways.
it hurts, it really hurts. when i tell you, that my mothers death broke me, i can tell the death of my real dad hit me more. it hit different.

it hit me deeper.

he just doesnt exist anymore. the man that called me princess and threw me in the air to make my dream of flying come true when i was seven,

he's dead.

my moms death created a monster. i refuse to believe that this is my dad. it just cant be.

today, im in school, i don't even know why. i hate school. i cant even concentrate. all i can think about is the pain. and the fact that my dad will be home in just 6 hours.

i am sitting on the toilet, holding my aching head, telling myself to stop.

telling my head to stop.

i am tired of the pain.
when i hear the door opening, i snap back into reality. i take a deep breath and stand up, immediately regretting it, because of the wave of pain which just hit my head.
i open the door quietly and head back to physics.

i am not even aware of the comment which came out of Shawn's mouth about my outward appearance and the following laughter of nearly the whole class.

i just sink into the depth of my seat, where i want to pass out.

right here. right now.

i lay my head on the desk when i hear my name.

"grace, grace-"

"maybe she is tired of the shit that you are talking", laughter
"suit yourself Marcus"

"grace?"

i glance at my professor who looks angrily into my eyes, i slightly form a 'yes?' with my mouth.
"do you know the answer for number 5b? "

do i look like i know the answer for that question? i am searching for an explanation for not-knowing it, when a voice behind me says

"she obviously doesn't, so could you just tell us the fucking answer or ask Layla who raises her hand for nearly 2 minutes now."

my breath stops, while my eyes wander to a blond boy with a blue sweater and black sweat pants.

Jaden Isaiah Hossler, the towns bad boy

a walking clichee, rumored to beat up people for fun, got ladies like a child got stuffed animals,
and, to my ruin, was absolutely breathtaking from his curled head to toe.

our eyes meet, which causes me to immediately turn around.
i stare at my desk hoping for the best, hoping for my professor to not scream at him.
she exhales outrageously and speaks "Jaden, this tone is not acceptable, go to the principals office right now!"

I bite my lip. it's my fault.