5

Hello

The days come, and they go. The sun comes up and it goes down. Then the moon rises and then it sets. All four seasons come and go. The world lives on and never stops for anyone. You may get support from others and some help but you really are on your own. You eventually have to fight for yourself. Eventually fend for yourself. And eventually help yourself. That's what I always tell the people that tell me they're always there for me when really they won't be there for me when I need someone the most. And they will always then say your never alone, after I try to disagree. They would then say, there is always an angel, guardian angel, watching out for you. And are there for you when you need them. But I've never met my guardian angel. I've never seen them come to my rescue when I'm alone and feel like a nobody. So I don't believe there's an angel watching over me. Helping me through my problems. To catch me when I fall. Or help me up after I have already fallen. And what about all the unanswered prayers I used to make every night before I'd sleep? I hate to say this but, no one is there for me. I've lost my faith, and hope, I used to have as a child. I am a sixteen year old high school girl who has never seen a miracle happen in my life. And the name is Katrina Williams.

1

My dreams had ran away to the corners of my mind from the sound of a loud, piercing ring from the outside world. My eyes opened fast, and wide. And then I gave a glare at my alarm clock. It read 6:30 am. And it was Monday morning. I looked out my window to see the cold, harsh autumn wind ripping warm coloured leaves from their branches and being swept away. I want to be swept away from this place. I can't stand it. Why can't I just be taken away with the dead leaves in the wind and dropped some where's else where no one knows me and I can start over?

I turned the annoying alarm clock off and got up. My feet planted on the cold floor and had made my body wake up more. But my mind was still half asleep. I walked quietly to the bathroom and got in the shower. The warm water made me want to fall asleep right here.

After I threw on a faded pair of jeans, t-shirt, and my RIOT! Paramore hood and old converse, I then headed down stairs. My hair was everywhere from the blow dryer. It was dry and frizzed out everywhere's. I played with my left lip ring this time instead of my right ring while searching for something to eat. Nothing, just like always. I just ate a piece of toast. I looked at the clock to realize I had still like, half an hour to do nothing. So I took some of the beer bottles, and rinsed 'em out, and dumped some half empty bottles down the drain. Like they really need it anyway's. Hey, the house looks a tad cleaner. It will be back to the way it looked before tonight again though. Why did I bother?

Finally it was time to head out to the bus and wait in the same spot like I did everyday. The sun wasn't out today, the grey clouds were covering every square inch of the sky I lived under. Then the bus started making it's way up my street. I think it would be cool to take a picture of it sometime on a day like this. The whole city was grey and dull except for that big, yellow bus and the tree's leaves. All of a sudden I felt a hint of nervousness in my stomach. I hate school. What really stinks though is knowing no one likes you and just likes to make fun of you. Before I knew it the bus was right in front of me. The doors opened and cold air flew into it, while loud voices blew out at me.

The bus was packed, like always. So I just took a seat with someone else who wasn't at the top of the food chain either. Her name was Mary. She was really only picked on because she was so damn smart, and really no one else was. I wasn't smart like her, tell you that much. It was pretty stupid why she was hated. People hated me because I looked different and acted different. They didn't like how I was quiet all the time and actually had a heart and cared for others. Unlike them.

"Hello Katrina." she said, sounding a little nervous. She probably was afraid I would bite her head off for talking to me. But I wasn't like that.

"Hey." I replied in a pretty quiet, but friendly voice.

After about a minute or two of small talk I put my headphones on my ears and turned on my CD player. Pretty old school, but my parents would never by me something so expensive like an ipod or zune. "Emergency" by Paramore began playing in my ears and filled my head with a video of my own. I just kept looking forward for the whole ride.

We got to school and I turned off my CD player and slipped it in my backpack. Everybody flooded out and I just waited 'till everyone was off. No point of trying to squeeze in. No one would stop to let us out anyway's.

My first class was Art. I loved art. Helped me express what I was feeling inside. But it also kinda stunk because it was right in the morning. But it did help me wake up. I went straight to my hallway where my locker was. It was in a row of lockers where not many people's lockers were. My locker was on an end and then five lockers down where a few people. I threw my stuff in and got my pencil, which was all I needed for the class.

On my way to the art room I felt some violent tugs on my long bleach (very) blonde hair. I let out a little yelp and turned around to see the queen "bitch", Sam, laughing with her friends. She was the most loved girl in the whole school.

"Oops sorry there." she laughed again "you had something in your hair and I was just trying to get it out." she smirked at me.

I just ignored her and walked a little faster away. My scalp hurt a little where she had pulled that part of my hair. Finally I was in the room. I was one of the first ones there.

"Morning." Mrs. Myers said to me in a happy tone.

She was the only teacher I liked, the only adult I liked outta this whole school. "Morning" I replied with a small smile. I then weave through the art tables to my seat in the corner next to a window. Seats weren't assigned but I always liked this seat. "Thunder" by Boys Like Girls then started playing in my head".

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?
You'll always be my thunder, and I said
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors
I don't wanna ever love another
You'll always be my thunder
So bring on the rain
And bring on the thunder

Today is a winding road
Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know--

The song then was cut off by the sound of Mrs. Myers talking. "K class, we're just kinda relax today and just draw. Draw anything you want, but don't slack off. Actually work hard. And colour as much of it as you can. Because I will still be grading you on this." she then smiled and then added "all right get to work."

She then handed out some nice drawing paper. Not the boring computer paper. I then started drawing right away a teenage boy , my age. I have been drawing anime style lately, experimenting drawing ways. But I was much, much better drawing real looking people. It was fun, I loved how I had that talent. Because I loved drawing my favorite bands. I had recently finished a drawing of Jeremy Davis, bassist of Paramore, in colour too. And it had turned out exactly looking like him. It so weird, I could draw real looking people, but sucked at cartoon drawings.

The sixteen year old boy in my drawing was from a view that was sorta over head, so he was looking up, right at me. He had a mow-hawk that was black, with short blue hair on both sides of the mow-hawk. He had some black and red eye smudge around ice blue, almost white coloured eyes. He had a snake-bite piercing's (like me, which is your right and left sides of your bottom lip is pierced.) Also he had 0 gage black ear plugs in his ear lobes. His right side of his nose had a nose ring in it. I didn't want him to look sad so I put a cute, little smile, that didn't show his teeth, on his face. He wore a black hood, unzipped, with a white and black striped t-shirt underneath. He wore also a studded belt on a pair of black pants (or as the others would call it tight, black emo pants.). They were semi-tight but not to the point where it looked stupid. His eyes held a nice, calm, content look. Very peaceful. He seemed like a real person but he wasn't. I sorta wanted to give him a name. So inside my head I said mentally to myself "how bout Frankie?" I smiled at the name. His name was Frankie.

By the end of class Frankie was about half way done. The drawing part hadn't taken long. But I didn't get very far with colouring him.

"K class, if you want you can take these home and finish them and bring them back tomorrow or you can leave them here." Mrs. Myers said. All the others left their's here but I looked at mine and decided to take mine home. I rolled up the paper neatly and put a rubber band on it. Finish it after home work tonight.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast, because before I knew it I was going up the stairs into the bus. The clouds didn't leave at all. It had rain earlier today and it had came back again and grew stronger much more quickly. I liked the rain, always seemed peaceful. But I couldn't hear the rain drum the top of the bus, I was too busy listening to Paramore, like usual.

I got home to an empty house being rained on. It was all silent in the house except for the drumming of the rain. Another reason why I liked the rain. It played it's own music differently from the rest of nature. The birds didn't sing with the rain, the rain would just drum on anything it hit, and would play a smooth tune while landing on the grassy ground in my back yard. And sometimes the thunder would kick in for a more intense sound.

I was happy to have this hour or two of silent peace. I had worked during this time, finishing my homework. And finishing Frankie. Once he was finished being coloured he really looked much more alive. It was funny, all my people I drew looked alive, but Frankie held a much more alive look on his face, in his calm eyes.

The door slammed open and slammed closed downstairs. Mom was home. But not dad yet, glad for that. He was nothing but a head case. And being an alcoholic didn't help him either, nor mom. I knew they first started drinking so they could help deal living with each other. But heck, I would have rather seem them divorce then get here. But they never were nice people. I have never felt any love from them. And in our pictures together we would smile, but we weren't as happy as people thought we were. There's really only one way to describe what type of family we were. A messed up, broken family. I seriously only think I was the only sane person in this house. But I wasn't perfect either. I had a different way of dealing with my stress. A life threatening way. Cutting. There was something about it that made me feel so calm and content after a little flick of the blade across the wrist. No body knew about this. So this was a good thing. It's weird. I almost don't care what could happen. I take chances with this little blade. But I'm not afraid of it. This is really the only thing that makes me feel good.

"Katrina! Get down here now!" my mom yelled. Wow, she just barely noticed that a lot of the beers were gone. Took long enough. She wastes her life on that stuff. She needs help. I headed down stairs...

My left side of my face hurt from being slapped so hard across the face. And her violent pushes after I was still trying to recover from the slap. My body hurt from being pushed around from my dad also, who had gotten home after being slapped and pushed around a little. My ears were ringing and my head hurt from how loud they were yelling at me. It was like they need to let the whole neighborhood know what was going on. Why did they both have to try and do their worse whenever I do that? Isn't a slap enough. It is for me. I luckily tonight had gotten away faster and earlier than usual. And locked my door behind me.

They had given up after about five minutes of threatening me. I was scared. But I was pretty used to this. I was hurting and felt really down again. I looked over to my nightstand and then at the drawer. I reached over on my bed and opened my drawer. I reached around for a minute trying to find it, and then I found it. I pulled out a little pocket knife.

I looked at it with a smile and was relived that I found it. "Hello my little friend, I need your help again. Make me feel better, please."

My sleeve was pulled up to my elbow and the knife was open and I looked at myself on the reflection of the blade. I sorta felt worse about doing this. Like, maybe this wasn't the answer I always thought it was. But I then pushed the thoughts out of my head, until there was only one thought. Put the blade to your skin, 'till your wrist goes red. And I looked away as the blade was pressed hard to my pale skin. A trail of blood seeping from the cut followed the blade. I then pulled it up and let out a sigh. All thoughts fled and I fell back on my pillow. I took a few paper towels to it and held down on it hard, to stop the bleeding.