Hey, there. I'm Catherine, but I always go by Cassie... Or whatever you want to call me; I don't really care. You probably don't know me. Not many people do. Here's a little bio for you: I'm that girl who's always awkwardly in the background in class pictures and doesn't have her picture taken for the yearbook per parents' bribing. You know, the one you always see at lunch, sitting by herself, not eating, but always with her nose in a book. Even at the end of the year, when everyone get at least one reward for just showing up, my parents, once again, bribe the school to just mail my awards home. Not that they're ever read, or anything. You know, because they don't want anyone to see their embarrassing daughter's hideous face. The school thinks that I'm just shy and that my parents just want to save me the humiliation and embarrassment of going up in front of the school... I am shy, but my parents don't care. The school and everyone would be shocked if they knew the real reason.
...
What?
...
Why are you staring at me like that?
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Oh; you want me to tell you the real reason, don't you?
...
Thought so.
...
Alright; fine. Have it your way.
Have you ever had anyone at school that was covered in scrapes, cuts, and bruises? I doubt it. Most schools would freak and immediately call an ambulance. But not my school. My school has never been very responsible or even sympathetic, especially when concerning its students. You could come to school in a full body cast and the staff wouldn't excuse you for being late to classes. Doctors' notes are meaningless pieces of paper to them. I've seen kids fail P.E. because they have asthma or stayed home from school for a week because of an accident or even per a doctor's order.
On the other hand, the school can argue that they don't know I'm being abused at home. I never wear anything but black jeans, black combat boots, black shirts, (varying only between long-sleeved and short), and my signature black jacket. The jacket isn't leather or anything special, but I never take it off. The hood is always up and I continuously let my hair fall forward, concealing my face. The kids at school just think I'm emo, and stay away from me. But I don't feel the loss of not having a friend or a boyfriend, because I've never had either and have absolutely no clue what it feels like.
Now that we have my background covered, why don't we get on with the present?
It's the last day of school and I'm scared. The only thing that has kept me alive since the day I was born has been school. When I excelled in school, I received less beatings. I didn't know what they were going to do with me when school ends... Which is in only a few moments.
My entire graduating class surrounded me, and I could feel the excitement buzzing in the air. The guys were laughing and cheering, while the girls were hugging and sobbing their good-byes.
I was standing in the background, like always, watching all this taking place, when suddenly one of the girls detached herself from the throng of students and walked up to me. She smiled.
"Hey, I'm Blake." She said, reaching her hand out to me.
I just stood there and blinked at her hand, shocked.
Blake withdrew her hand. "Anyway, my friends over there," she pointed toward the group of girls who were giggling and watching us, "dared me to come over and talk to you." She shrugged. "What's your name?"
I didn't answer. I'm not accustomed to speaking unless its a cry.
Blake stared at me for a moment, obviously expecting an answer. Just as she was about to turn around and go back to other friends, I said, quietly, "Cassie."
She paused, looking back at me with a shocked expression. "What?"
"My name is Cassie." I responded in a slightly louder voice than before.
Blake, with a mask of confusion mingling pure shock on her face, merely turned and walked away. But, before she was gone, I saw the corners of her mouth glide slightly upward. I wasn't sure that it was a smile, though. I don't really see many of those, especially not ones directed at me.
I just sighed and gave up on thinking about it. That smile could have been aimed toward one of her friends, after all. I was only being silly and over thinking it, as Mother always says I do. Piercingly loud, the bell signaling the beginning of graduation rang.
I kept my head down as we all filed out the back room to the row of chairs in the front of the audience. I had mapped out in my head what number I would be on the alphabetic list so that I would be prepared when my name was called. I get comfortable in my chair, closed my eyes and mentally counted down. I tensed as the numbers became smaller...
5:
"Nathaniel Quick!"
4:
"Dora Rorlington!"
3:
"Sydney Surnit!"
2:
"Joshua Talisman!"
I take a deep breath... 1:
"Catherine Tomlinson!"
I stood and shyly made my way up to the stage.
"Congratulations." Principal Pinckney whispered in my ear, shaking my hand and handing me the thick sheet of paper that signaled I was officially out of Grade School.
I put on a small smile, a genuine one, for my favorite teacher and principal.
I quietly stood beside my fellow classmates, keeping my head down while they grinned and snickered at their families in the audience, which erupted in a cheer as the last student made their way to stand beside me. Hats flew and suddenly everyone was everywhere; it felt like the walls were closing in on me. Did I mention that I'm a bit claustrophobic?
Stifling the urge to cry out as I was shoved and pushed throughout the crowd on my way to the door, I moved as quickly as I could grasping my certificate tightly in hand.
Finally, I made it outside, gasping in deep breaths of the cool, fresh air. Opening my eyes, which had closed upon my reaching fresh air, and looking around the parking lot, I tried to memorize each detail; the thought had finally sunk in that I would never return to this place again. The familiar tree that I had read under during recess in elementary school, the beaten up bleachers with spray-painted profanities everywhere you looked. I fondly reached down and plucked a small rose, carefully avoiding the thorns, and brought it to my nose. It smelled sweet, reminding me of the times I would run here in the morning, sobbing from an exceptionally painful beating, and smell the roses, closing my eyes and imagining that I was someone else, somewhere else. Of course, no one ever saw me there, seeing as I always arrived at school obscenely early.
Sighing, I took one last look around the place. I was honestly going to miss the peaceful tree, the rose bush, even the bleachers. My nose wrinkled. Okay, maybe not the bleachers.
I closed my eyes for a small moment to think about the good, peaceful things, before I had to go home and face my verdict, the one that would determine the rest of my life.
Opening my eyes, I took my cap and gown off, (my regular clothes were underneath), and tucked them away into my schoolbag, before heading down the familiar sidewalk.
I took my time with the walk, but it was hard to delay the inevitable; the house I dreaded so much was only a block away... I took as much time as I could, nevertheless, stopping every once in a while to let my eyes roam the beautiful sunset. I sighed, like I always did, when my eyes rested on the Pacific. I wanted so badly to move to London, but... well, you get the picture. It wasn't like I had a choice.
I tore my gaze away from the ocean and to the long driveway in front of me, taking a deep, firm break. I tried to conceal my shaking as I knocked softly on the front door. It flung open before I could touch it, and I was grabbed crudely by my father, and thrown in. I emitted a small gasp when my feet lifted from the ground, and bit back a cry as I crashed right into my Mother. She shoved me off her, as Father stormed out of the room. I cowered in the corner, bringing my knees up to my chest. Mother slapped me.
"Stop being a coward and get up!" She growled.
I stood on my shaking legs, and swallowed. "Y-yes, Ma'am?" I stuttered, earning another slap from her.
"Do NOT stutter when you speak to me!" She screamed in outrage.
"I apologize, Mother." I said, swallowing back the instinctive urge to stutter.
She sat back with a satisfied look on her face. "Now, I have news for you. Your Father and I cannot stand to see your filthy face around our home anymore, so we're shipping you off to London. You'll be living there with your brother."
At first I was excited. I'm going to London! I guess dreams really do come true... But then something else she said registered, and the question came out before I had time to stop it. "I have a brother?"
She slapped me again. "Know your place, girl! Do not speak unless spoken to first!" She shouted, infuriated once again.
"Yes, Ma'am." I whispered quietly, mentally slapping myself for saying something so rash. She ignored my question anyway.
"All you need to know is that your brother's name is Louis, and he lives with a friend of his. He has four friends that, altogether, form a very popular boy band." Her voice changed from reprimanding to a growl. "If you do anything to ruin their fame, I swear on my life I will fly out there and kill you with my bare hands. Understand me?"
I swallowed thickly and nodded.
"I said, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?'!" She shouted.
"Yes, Ma'am." I replied quickly.
She calmed slightly. "One more small detail: You won't just be living with Louis for the summer; his family has adopted you, as we have disowned you." She looked me up and down in disgust. "Go pack what things you have and get your filthy face out of here!" She shouted.
"Yes, Ma'am!" I replied quickly and scrambled over to the stairs, taking them two at a time. Easily locating the closet I kept my clothes in and slept in, I threw all my clothes into a little suitcase I found sitting in the middle of the floor. My clothes didn't even fill half of the bag... Pathetic, I know.
Snapping the suitcase shut, I hurried out of the closet, and, without a second glance, rushed down the stairs. Mother and Father were waiting in front of the door, arms crossed.
"Unfortunately for us, we've been instructed by law to drive you to the airport." Father wrinkled his nose, and muttered to Mother, as they were walking out the door, "Remind me to buy seat cleansing things when we finish throwing away the trash." Mother laughed.
Unsure what to do next, I followed them, cautiously. Father yanked open the back door of their car and shoved me in. Now, I know this may seem weird to you, but I've never been in a moving vehicle before. I've never even had a bike, and I've never seen the need for vehicles, since I can walk. That's what legs are for.
It only took me a couple minutes to find out that I don't like vehicles. At all. Unfortunately, Father seemed to pick up on this, and made the car go faster and faster, taking in, with delight, my uncomfortable and nauseous position of the seat. My knuckles were pale from the level of intensity I was clutching my seatbelt with. Luckily, it had only taken me a moment to figure out how to use that.
I sighed in relief when we finally pulled up in the front of the airport. Father didn't even bother to park, get out, or even say goodbye. He just said, "Out." as Mother threw a small piece of paper at me. After I had gotten out of the car and watched it speed away for a moment. I took a deep breath, and finally decided it was safe to look at the piece of paper Mother had so kindly thrown at me. I suspected it was a plane ticket, and, obviously, my suspicions were right.
Thinking hard, I tried to recall what I knew about airports. Nothing came up. But then I heard a loud computerized voice say, "Flight 23 to London boarding now.", and looked around in fright. No! Not when I was this close to freedom! I looked around desperately until I found someone with an official-looking uniform on. "Excuse me, sir; I'm not quite sure where to go. I've never flown before." I showed him my ticket nervously and he just chuckled, pointing at a small plane, doors looking as if they were about to close. "Thank you so much, sir!" I shouted before rushing off to the doors. I showed my ticket to a man standing at the door, and he pointed toward the front of the plane. Confused, I made my way there, while everyone else on the plane stared at me. Gently pushing aside a curtain I stepped inside. There was no one there. "Excuse me," I confusedly asked a woman in a uniform, pushing a cart in my direction, "Am I in the right place?" I showed her my ticket. She glanced at the ticket, her eyes running swiftly over it, before nodding and pointing toward a seat next to a window. I swallowed and sat down nervously. If being in a car had done terrible things to my insides, I was terribly afraid what being in a plane would do to them. I looked up and searched for the woman that had helped me, ready to ask her how long the ride would be, but instead, I met the eyes of a boy about my age. He was wearing the same kind of uniform as the woman had, though, so I was going to ask him the same question, but... I became tongue-tied when he smiled at me. "This will be a long ride." He said. "You may want something to do... Or you can sleep." He flashed me a grin, and I bit my lip to keep from smiling back. I looked down, but when I looked up again to thank him for the tip, he wasn't there. Frowning, I turned to the window. But I listened again as another voice through a speaker started announcing safety precautions. I tried to remember them all but there were quite a bit. Finally, I gave up and sat back, getting comfortable... That was, until I heard a different voice say that the plane was about to lift off. I clenched my teeth, bracing myself for the gut-wrenching feeling I had gotten in the car, but it never came, I didn't feel anything at all, actually. Curious as to if the plane had been delayed, I looked out the window... and gasped. I couldn't see anything below me. It was all clouds. My hands clenched around the armrests. Even though my stomach couldn't feel that I was no longer on the ground, the rest of my body could. I suddenly had a terrible headache and all I wanted to do was sleep. I closed my eyes as tightly as my hands were clenched and... fell into a dreamless sleep. For the first time in my life, I was excited, and no thoughts of my Mother or Father were going to ruin this for me.
