Chapter One; Disrupted Routines
The shrill and incessant tones of my alarm clock burst through the utter silence of my room and I felt the utmost reluctance to get up from my bed. I still had three months of school left before I was entirely done with high school and I would never have to see the people that would give me jeering looks or hear their insulting remarks about myself. As if I didn't already say negative things about myself, but them talking made it even worse for me, and my father was the icing on the cake.
Finally, I sighed. If I didn't go to school, it would count as me giving up, and I had endured the whole of high school and middle school with these people so far, I could make it through three months. Oh, who was I kidding? No I couldn't. I was so weak once their taunts flew through the air for me to here.
Inwardly groaning at the prospect of continuing my torture at my school, I walked into the bathroom to prepare myself for school. Cleaning my teeth and washing my face, I applied simple foundation and blush, adding one coat of mascara. I didn't put much makeup on, since they already teased me enough. Starting to put more makeup on would just encourage them, although I wore little to none while they wore probably pounds on their face a day. Rubbing my lips with a simple gloss, I returned to my wardrobe.
Slipping into skinny jeans and a loose white, long-sleeved shirt, I lifted the hem of the shirt up just a little to examine my stomach where pale, shimmery scars shone out from what I put myself through. Dropping it, I tugged at the sleeves of the shirt to try and cover up my wrists in any way I could. Going back to my nightstand I slipped on tons of bracelets around my wrists. Everyone in the high school saw it and suspected something of it, but I would just ignore it. I've gotten those judgmental stares since middle school, sixth grade.
I dug around in my closet for a couple moments before taking out a hoodie and slipping it on over the shirt and bracelets. I took all precautions to hide whatever I could of my body. Changing into gym clothes was utter agony and normally I was in the changing rooms for a total of thirty seconds, just to get into my gym clothes and stuff my ordinary clothes into my backpack and then I was out once more.
Deciding that it was now or never, although I would preferably choose never, if I had the choice, I walked down the stairs, dragging my feet. My stomach rumbled quietly, but I ignored it. That would only increase the amount of calories I consumed today if I ate breakfast. I skipped breakfast and lunch as it was, and ate a diminutive dinner at night before going to bed. I ignored carbohydrates most of the time and have maybe three hundred calories a day, and I still wasn't underweight. That was how fat I felt and how other people saw me.
Grabbing my backpack, I walked out the door and locked up the house before turning in the direction of my old rust bucket of a car and hopping into the driver's seat. It was actually my dad's, but he had been picked up by a friend to go drinking last night, so I assumed he wouldn't be home until later this evening where I would be in for some serious trouble. Whenever the symptoms of a hangover struck him, his mood would turn stormy and he would go after me to vent his anger out. Then, I would harm myself some more when I was left alone, and the day would end. This happened once, maybe twice a week. I had adjusted to it slowly and it haunted my nightmares all the time.
Not realizing that I had zoned out once more, I had arrived in the school parking lot and swerved into a space before turning the car off and looking out. Already the main hallway was crowded and my locker was on the way other side. Awesome, I had to make my way through that entire corridor and then get through the rest of the day. This was one of the reasons I started hating school, especially when I reached freshman year.
Opening the car door, I stepped out and locked the car door and stuffed the keys into the pocket of my jeans before starting across the parking lot to get to the seething mass of kids cluttering the hallway. My Converse slapped against the asphalt that being the only sound I made before finally crossing the threshold to the school and bracing myself for the insults that would by tossed m y way soon.
"You are so fat, Jones!" called out one of the guys.
One of the jocks behind him added, "No guy would want to go out with you!" They all burst out into snickers and chuckles at this last comment and I shook myself out. This was nothing compared to the normal things I went through on a daily basis, so I wasn't even harmed by this. And I had never had a boyfriend or even shared a first kiss, so I couldn't argue back. They all knew that I was hopeless at romance as well since I had known them from middle school, so it wasn't like I could lie or make up something like I had a boyfriend that didn't go to this school and stuff like that.
With some more remarks called out at me, I finally made it through to my locker where they eventually subsided and I was in peace before my first class. Stuffing some random crap into the locker, I swung it closed as quietly as possible and locked it before sprinting around the corner to lean against the wall and hide away from the derisive, cruel eyes of the entire student body. Even sophomores and juniors teased me on occasion, and that was the worst part. People younger than me would look at me with that same gaze that betrayed no pity or sympathy for me. No one would relate to my situation in this school and I couldn't wait to get out forever. That would be my wish for Christmas or something is to get out of that school, even if Christmas already passed me by four months ago and I had found the relief of no school for nearly two weeks. That was a stress lifted off my shoulders.
The bell rang out again and I jerked myself off the wall and headed down one of the smaller hallways to get to my first class, which, today, happened to be Math, something I wasn't too bad at.
My teacher, Miss Hayes, was quite nice to me and sympathized with me for my social situation in school right now, but that was it. Our relationship extended no further than that. Just mere sympathy for how my life was in high school and I hated the glances she would toss at me every once and a while, as if I didn't understand how screwed I was in the first place. Pity doesn't help me here, so why even bother giving it to me?
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Class passed rather quickly for me and before I knew it I was packing my stuff up to the passing period to set off to my next class, Physics which was another class I excelled at. I had a very reasonable and logical brain, allowing me to receive good grades in most academic classes. I still tried hard, though, since it was high school and this would be on my resume for whatever college I sent an application to, if I even had enough money to pay for college tuition.
I went through seven more classes before the ending bell of school rang. I hadn't received so much suffering today, but I knew this couldn't last for long. If I knew my own luck, my father would come home today. I had work as well, so being beaten wouldn't be very helpful as normally he aimed for my face, and I had been running low on concealer lately so it wouldn't turn out very well for me. Strange looks would be given at McDonalds for how my face was so marred. This day turned from okay to utterly insane.
Driving home, I dreaded the thought of my father being home. Luckily, when I got there, he wasn't home, but I knew he would be and he would be extremely hung over. Jumping out of the car, I grabbed my backpack once more and trudged up the driveway into the house. I would want to get as much homework done as possible in the amount of time allotted before my father would come screaming into the house for me to get myself down the stairs so he could see me and then insult me and then abuse me. My father was such a kindly man, not.
Walking into the house, I scaled the stairs with my backpack still slung over my shoulder. My homework was a priority through all the struggles in my life right now, and I still tried to receive good grades in high school, and I miraculously managed to do so. Perching myself on the bed, I started to scribble out the first of three essays I had for English, thinking about how to phrase it so that it sounded pretty good and would earn a grade that was satisfactory, a B+ or better. I hovered around an average of A- or A, so getting an A- or B+ would be pretty good for me.
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It was about two hours and I had gotten through most of the homework assigned for the week, feeling pretty proud of myself if such a thing could be accomplished as I never felt pride, just disappointment, when the door slammed open suddenly and my father hollered, "Skyler!" I knew it was time and my stomach dropped. There would be no avoiding it. If I didn't go down there, he would come back here, and I didn't want that.
Dragging m y feet as if they were composed of lead, I began to walk down the stairs and into the living room where my father stood, leaning against the wall to support himself. Yup, he had definitely had his fill of alcohol today and I would certainly be in for it. He didn't hesitate to lunge for me, and I didn't even flinch. This had become a part of my life, so why even bother trying to run away or wince back?
He punched me in the face, pain searing across my left cheek but I didn't even let a whimper escape my mouth. My dad would get nothing out of me from the pain he caused me. He shoved me across the room until m y back came into contact with a wall, and all of my attention was now focused on that new source of agony. While I was vulnerable and slumped on the ground, he began to kick me in the stomach over and over. It hurt and finally a few tears slid down my cheeks, leaving streaks through my blush.
This dragged onward for a while until he finally passed out on the couch, leaving me sprawled and in immense pain. It was over for now and I wouldn't even bother cleaning up my face. It was too obvious and I wouldn't want to waste my concealer anymore. Even foundation and blush wouldn't cover what he had done to me today. Before I was able to get my bloodied clothes off and get ready for my job as a cashier at McDonalds, I rushed for the bathroom and vomited bile and slime into the toilet, contractions causing even more pain to emanate from my torso and I let a few more tears leak out and I started to sob silently.
When I was able to stand upright, I went to go get changed, tossing the ruined jeans and hoodie over into a pile in the corner of my room. I kept the shirt on as it only contained a couple of crimson specks. Pulling on a new hoodie and pinning my nametag onto it, I pulled on new skinny jeans as well. Taking my ponytail out of my blond hair and running my fingers through it, I pulled it back up into a ponytail. I never styled my hair for this job as there was no need for it. Going into the bathroom and applying just a tad of green eyeshadow, I slipped down the stairs, careful not to awaken my father.
Driving to work, I winced each time I moved my arms. It burned to move a centimeter, so moving my hands over the cash register was going to be awful today, but when wasn't it?
Arriving to the local greasy fast food restaurant I heaved out of my car, again pain rushing through me, dizziness making my world swirl. I felt sickened again, but I had to persevere. My father would go out drinking, or maybe gambling, tonight, so I would get some peace. Pulling the hood of my jacket up, I tried my best to hide the darkening bruises on my sides and the split on my lip, even if it was a hopeless attempt. Now I would receive judging stares from the customers that walked in.
Pulling the doors open, the scent of gross junk food wafted up into my nose and I barely refrained from gagging. Being how sensitive I was about eating, working here was killing me as the food was utterly disgusting and I was wondering how people didn't die from obesity from eating at this place just once. I mean, I wasn't judging, but this place provided food that could violate health laws all over the world. I'm pretty sure the chicken they say is real is artificial, but I wouldn't know since I was only the cashier and I refused to eat here, even if I would get the employee discount.
Taking my spot at the cash register, I waited for the first customer to wander in and order repulsive crap from here. They did. A lady of maybe thirty or so came in and walked right up to me with confidence. She was slightly overweight, but not too bad. I guess she only ate here on occasion. She ordered a cheeseburger and a salad and a small drink. I guess that wasn't too bad except for the fact that she would probably fill the cup with soda and the cheeseburger had like four hundred calories in it. I wouldn't even start to imagine eating so much from here. I printed her receipt and handed it to her before giving the order to one of the cooks in the back, who immediately hopped to it.
Customers came in and went and I served each their revolting meals. Finally, maybe an hour or so before we had to shut down for the night, five boys tumbled in with excess energy for this time of day. They all joked around and they all had accents. In America, all I ever heard was New Jersey, New York, and Southern accents, so British accents were new for me, and even in that type of accents they varied majorly.
They came up to the counter to start ordering their food. They all ordered some kind of large burger, medium fries and large drinks. Although, there was a blond boy that ordered twice as much, and looked as eager as a boy on Christmas, and I was quite surprised with how much he ordered and how thin he appeared. Repeating their order, I peeked up at them just to confirm everything. They all nodded and then one of them zeroed in on my face and I knew I was in some deep crap.
"What happened to your face?" asked a boy with this slightly sloped brunette hair, resembling the hairstyle of Justin Bieber, while having energetic and lively turquoise eyes.
"Um, I fell," I mumbled back. It was a lie that was slightly believable, right?
"Love, people don't get two black eyes, a cut on their cheek and a slit lip from falling," informed another one with wavier brown hair that was darker, more of a chocolate type of brown. He had dark brown eyes under thick, furrowed eyebrows and he had a deeper voice than the one that had spoken earlier.
"It happens," I snapped back in an angry tone.
"Well, it doesn't seem reasonable, but it is your business," said the same boy with a shrug, even though he seemed unconvinced.
I turned around and repeated the order to the cook once more and he started busying away at the large order, his eyes wide with shock. We didn't receive orders like that normally, so it was indeed startling but we didn't say anything to the customers in fear of offending them.
While the boys turned away to go find a seat, I sighed and leaned against the wall directly behind the counter, letting my eyes flutter close to rest a little since I hadn't been able to catch a slight break since I started my shift, even if it was almost over. I just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.
Suddenly, I opened my eyes to see one of the other boys, he had black hair done up in a high quiff and he had the same dark eyes. He had well-defined features with a prominent jaw line and veins stood out along his neck. He asked, "Why didn't you recognize us earlier when we ordered our food?"
"Why should I?"I asked with blank eyes. I wasn't good at remembering faces, and I was almost certain that I had never seen them before in my life.
"Um, we are…never mind," he said, before attaching a nervous chuckle at the end. I was suspicious, but I ignored it and then the cook came up with seven different trays because the five boys had ordered so much from this restaurant. We had made some good cash on them, and even if they pried in my business and asked way too many questions, I hoped they would come back since they had paid so much today, just for one meal.
The cook rang the bell with some difficulty and I laughed at him before I took two trays and set it down in front of them at their table before returning. It took several trips to get all their food to them before I left to get behind the cash register again. The night was nearly over, but I had to wait until the minute hit when my shift was over, so I watched the clock like a hawk. I had fifteen minutes yet.
They took a while to chow down on their disgusting food, so I had to stay extra while the cooks left to go home and do whatever it is they did. I never questioned them and they returned the favor. We were just workmates and only talked when necessary, even if we exchanged small talk if business was slow on occasion.
When I was sure they had finished, I came up to them and started taking their trays and dumped their trash for them. They were the only remaining customers, so I tried to aid them in any way possible, just to see if I could squeeze a tip out of them. "That isn't necessary," assured one of them, he had ridiculous curls and a deep, slow voice that seemed to entrance me momentarily.
"Well, I tried to help since you were the only ones left, so I didn't have to tend to anyone else. When business is slow, I do stuff like that," I said, just to make sure they knew it was normal of me to do that. I nodded at them curtly before returning to my register to wipe it down. The keys were sitting there so I could lock up since the manager was extremely lazy and wouldn't stay the extra few minutes to lock up on his own.
"Hey, love," said one of them, the blonde one.
"Hmm, what is it?" I asked to see if it was something involving my job.
"What are you doing tonight, since it is so late."
"Um, I suppose I'll go back home alone to get the last bit of my homework done and eat a bit of dinner," I said in reply. I was trying to be polite while I started to straighten my station, since I had to work tomorrow as well and I didn't want it to look bad in the afternoon so I wouldn't get yelled at by the lazy manager. Wiping a rag over the cash register and the counter, I glanced up at him. He was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
"Well, you could come over with us to watch a movie."
"That sounds nice, but I have school in the morning and I can't afford to miss a day," I replied, even if it did sound truly nice to have some time to relax with company. But, I felt a little depressed after school today, and I was urging myself toward the beautiful, bejeweled knife I owned that I kept buried under all of my socks in one of my drawers in my room.
"Oh, come on. You can miss a day. I mean, who wouldn't want to miss a day?" he said, trying to convince me.
"Why do you want me to come over anyways?" I pondered, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
"Um…" he paused for a second. "I suppose just to know you better."
I shrugged. "I guess I'll come over. I will just drive home so I won't have to miss school tomorrow." There was a certain reluctance that made me not want to say that. I would be ecstatic to miss school so I wouldn't have to go through so much pain and suffering.
"Up to you, of course," he responded, but he looked happy that I had agreed.
"Let me just wipe down the counter and lock up and we'll be on our way," I added.
He nodded before heading over to the other boys, probably to tell them the news about my agreement to their invitation. I quickly wiped down the rest of the counter before tossing the rag into the kitchen randomly to find it later. We had bunches of rags, so it wasn't like if I lost it we would never find another one. They were literally everywhere in the kitchen.
Taking the ring of keys, I walked out and waited for them to follow so I could lock up the doors. They didn't follow and I sighed before traipsing back in there and flicking all the lights off.
A couple girly screeches rang out and I chuckled as the wailing continued before they all scrambled out as quick as possible. "That's how you flush customers out of a restaurant," I said with satisfaction in my voice, basically oozing pride.
They all scowled at me and I grinned in a girlish manner at them before heading toward my car to follow them to their house. I knew that I shouldn't be doing this as they could be rapists or something, but it would be nice to get away from my current life for a while and escape all worries that constantly hovered over me, but I still felt just slight dread at going to five strange boys' house for the night. Well, what is life without taking risks?