Finally ready to post! I hope you like this story.
For the best reading-experience, I'd strongly suggest listening to 'Rain' by Jon Heintz. A truly beautiful and touching song, which really fits in with this chapter.
Rain slowly drizzles down the window I'm staring out of, blocking my vision. Blinking, I close my eyes and pay attention to the music blaring through my headphones. Demons by Imagine Dragons, to be specific. I can't hear anything else, and that's exactly what I want.
I turn around, and collapse on my bed, kicking my blankets onto the floor. Sighing, I pull out my iPhone and dully shuffle through my games.
After I get bored of this, I stare at the walls of my room. No matter how many posters I hang up, or lights I add, it always remains dreary. But I guess you could say that I'm used to it, so it doesn't bother me like before.
The constant pounding of rain and fierce thunder bursts through my music, and I turn up the volume, wishing I could just fall asleep. Have you ever tried sleeping in a tent in the middle of a thunder storm? That's what I might as well be doing right now.
Something is running through my mind, like this ceaseless rain. They're dangerous thoughts, but I can't chase them out. They stick with me, like a ray of hope in my darkness. I tease these thoughts, pretending they could actually work. I chuckle at some of them, and grow serious at the others. After a while, I let out a sigh and shift onto my side, closing my eyes.
Time passes quickly while I'm asleep at last, and when I wake up groggily, I can faintly hear the sounds of two people arguing. A man and a woman. That's nothing new, but it still sends a chilling shiver down my spine. What are they fighting about now?
It might have to do with the paper I gave them earlier. I was feeling hungry a few minutes ago, but now my stomach is feeling queasy. Just listening to them argue is a good enough reason not to leave my room.
I realize that my music has stopped playing. Must have stopped while I was asleep. Reaching down to turn it back on, I freeze when I hear a loud knock.
With a slam, my bedroom door is pushed open, probably breaking off one of the hinges. I can literally feel the hairs on my arms tingling, and the blood inside of me has turned cold.
My heart is pounding. As though in slow motion, staring at my doom, I turn on my music at the last second.
Sirens bast through the night air, and a parade of police cars and an ambulance make their way through the traffic, honking loudly in their hurry to get to their destination in time.
A man and woman are standing at the doorway, with their hands cuffed behind their backs. The woman screams hysterically, clearly drunk, while the man growls in frustration at the officers. They're dragged to the cars, while men carry a stretcher into the ambulance.
With paramedics working hurriedly on the patient, they speed to the hospital.
My arm is twitching, and the doctor says that even after it's out of the cast, it might still cause problems. Every day in this white hospital room passes by in a blur, just like everything else. I can't even remember what happened when that man came into my room, but I was handed a file, where it says that I was found unconscious on the floor, with my arm twisted in a weird way, and other broken bones, as well as bruises on my throat.
Does any of this really matter? I couldn't care less what position I was in, or that my tormentors were imprisoned. It never ends, I know that better than most people. Sure, you can say that 'there's a rainbow after the storm', but I've been through more storms than I can count, and never once have I seen a rainbow, so to speak.
My neck is still sore, despite the painkiller I was given, and I shift more comfortably on the pillows. Some doctor this guy is, can't even cure a sore throat. Literally. Rolling my eyes, I reach over to where my iPhone was returned by a nurse this morning.
Jamming the plug into the device, I shove my headphones over my mess of blonde hair, and close my eyes, letting out a sigh. This thing has been with me for the last three foster homes, acting as my only companion. The judge gave it to me as a sort of apology, I guess. "Sorry you had to be born into such a rotten world," I mumble to myself, giving a hoarse laugh. "I hope this thing makes your life so much better."
It didn't, I should have sent it back.
With a leg and an arm stuck in casts, I'm faced with the dim prospect of either staying in the hospital for a while, or rolling around in a wheelchair. Personally I prefer the first, because unless my next 'caretaker' is a total retard, they won't try beating me up while I'm literally in a hospital.
The room I'm in is actually kind of refreshing. White walls, white sheets, white everything, and then on the bedside table, a splash of color in the form of blue and pink flowers. I can't believe such a place like this exists, actually. Opposite of the people I grew up around, these adults devote their time to healing people, even me. It's not dreary, but almost what you would call cheerful. And I can't even decide wether or not I like it.
One of the nurses is walking over to me. I close my eyes, pretending to be asleep, but unfortunately I feel her shake me gently, trying to 'wake me up'. Giving a real groan, I push her hand away with my good hand. She smiles at me, and rubs my hair. "Good morning, Lucy. How are you feeling?"
Flinching at her touch, I give a lazy shrug. "What do you think?"
I can see the pity in her eyes, and it bugs me.
"Sweetie, are you hungry? I'll get someone to bring you some food, okay? Is there anything in particular you'd like?"
I turn my head away. I don't know why, but I feel like she's treating me like a little kid. I can't see her now, but I hear her little 'click' that she makes with her tongue, out of pity. That's the most annoying sound in the world, you know? Hearing someone make a noise like that, as though they're so much better, and you're just some stupid kid who deserves pity.
Eyes narrowed, I glare daggers at the wall. She must have noticed, because she's gone now, thankfully. Still angry, I spit at the floor. What gives her the right to use that tone of voice with me? If I was talking to a three year old, that's the voice I would use. Not to a fricken sixteen year old.
A few minutes later a nurse came back, carrying a tray of food. Wether I like it or not, I'm starving. Practically yanking the tray out of her hands, I eagerly set about devouring everything. She's watching me I think, and she probably thinks I haven't eaten in a week, which isn't too far from the truth. A few seconds later, and I'm staring at an empty plate.
"Are you still hungry, honey? Because I can get you some more food, if you are."
There's that annoying child-tone again. Despite the fact that I'm still starving, I don't respond, out of spite. Shaking her head, the nurse took the tray back and walked out of the room, leaving me in solitude again.
"Lucy, this is Jude Heartfilia."
I stare blankly at the tall man in front of me. He's smiling at me, flashing a set of white pearls. Rolling my eyes, I turn my head and stare at the passing cars. We're standing in front of a large house the size of a mansion, where my social worker took me after being released from the hospital. Even though I grudgingly asked to stay in the hospital, I was discharged by the doctor, who said that I could manage fine on crutches.
"It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Lucy. You can call me Jude, or Mr. Heartfilia-whatever you're comfortable with."
"How about I call you an imbecile?" I mutter under my breath, giving an exaggerated sigh. My social worker gives me a disapproving look, and I sigh. "Yeah, nice to meet you too, I'm sure." There's no doubt in my mind, however, that this man that reeks of money is no different from the rest.
Still smiling, Mr. Money-bag gestures to the house. "Shall I give you a tour?"
My social worker is waving goodbye, and handing me a card. "Lucy, you don't need to worry about him. We've checked his background, inspected his house, and held countless interviews. He's a very generous man, who just recently lost his wife. And I'm warning you, don't try anything funny, okay?" with that said, she walks over to her car and within seconds is driving away.
I glance at the card she gave me-it's a phone number. What's the point, if she says we can trust this guy? Scoffing, I shove the card into my pocket, and follow Jude into the mansion.
"As you can see, I've invested a lot of time and effort into making sure you live comfortably in my house."
We're standing in a large bedroom, so pink and girly that I literally gag. Jude raises an eyebrow at me, and I give him a 'what's wrong?' look, so he shakes his head and continues with the tour.
After about an hour of listening to the guy talk about absolutely nothing, I finally hear something interesting.
"Once you're comfortable, I've registered you for a wonderful school," Jude says, beaming at me. "It's known for adjusting teaching methods according to the student, which means that no matter where you are in your studies, you'll catch up in no time."
Great. For the first time in years, I'm gonna have to attend a stinking school. And high school, no less. "Gee, thanks for asking me." I grumble sarcastically.
His eyes seem to flash for a second, but it's gone before I can be sure. Instead he turns, and beckons for me to follow him. "You must be tired, right? Why don't we take a break. You can explore the house on your own, or just get used to your room. Okay? I'll see you later then, Lucy."
Finally that irksome smile has disappeared, along with Jude himself. Relieved, I let out a weary sigh and drag myself to my new room.
Plopping onto the massive bed, I have to admit that it's definitely a plus for moving here. I don't think I've ever even seen a bed this big, much less slept in one. Dropping my crutches on the floor next to the bed, I sprawl out on the cushy blankets and promptly fall asleep.
It's currently eight thirty, and I'm not in a good mood. I've been in this house for over a month, and still can't get used to things. It's almost like… Life is too easy. Jude still gives me that fake smile no matter what I say, there's plenty of food whenever I'm hungry, and there are fricken maids! Who in this age has maids? It's ridiculous, and I don't plan on taking part of it. I do everything on my own, have since I was born. I have to be really abrupt with those dopes, so they'll finally learn to leave me alone.
But despite all that crap, it's not the real reason I'm grumpy. It's the first day of school today, actually. I can't believe I'm being forced to go, but I have no choice. That doesn't mean I can't be really, really mad at Jude, though.
Now I'm trying to make myself presentable. It was laid out very clearly for me when Jude was telling me last night what was going on. I'm to look neat and orderly, which means no torn jeans, no gothic makeup, no spikes, skulls, or basically anything else that literally nobody wears anymore. But he's sheltered inside of a mansion, so it's not surprising he doesn't know anything about teens these days.
I yank a tank top off of it's hanger, glancing at my closet. 90% of it is full of clothes that the maids bought for me, and 10% are my own clothes, bought through the years.
I've already looked through the clothes given to me, and half of them should be tossed into the trash for violating the rights of everyone else who would see them.
A pair of black skinny jeans, a blue tank top, and a gray long-sleeved shirt. That covers up all of the scars, except for the ones on my face and neck, but those are easily explained. As I stare at the mirror, I study my hair. Blonde hair that reaches past my shoulders, framing my still-thin face. I decide against pigtails, and instead I braid it to the side.
With that done, I roll up my sleeves to my elbows, put on a pair of neon blue headphones and my look is complete.
Stumbling down the stairs with a bit of difficulty since my leg is still a little shaky, I silently sneak out of the house before Jude wakes up and finds something wrong with my outfit.
Outside, I'm barely surprised to see a limo parked in the street, with a man holding the door open. As I stalk right past them, I mutter, "Get a life." at the man. A maid runs up to me hurriedly. "Miss Lucy, you have a limousine to ride to school in!" she calls, panting as I walk faster and faster. Over my shoulder, I give her the fiercest glare possible, one that spat in her face 'I-would-rather-die'. Getting the message, she runs back and sends the limo away.
Like heck I'm gonna show up in a limo! I've already looked up the directions to the school, and it turns out that it's only a few minutes away. I roll my eyes. Rich people…
As I near the school, I can see a big sign at the entrance, probably the name of the school, 'Fairy Tail'. What kind of name is that? Do they even know that they spelled 'tail' wrong? Sighing, I pull out my headphones and turn up my music.
I don't know where I'm going. It's kind of like my life's analogy, I think. I don't know where I'm going, but I know I'm gonna hate it once I get there.
Other teens are walking past me, clinging to their friends that they're so fortunate to have. I check my schedule, just to make sure I don't waste more of my time wandering around. I have a 'Mr. Gildarts' apparently, as my homeroom teacher. What's a homeroom teacher? Whatever, I'll probably find out later.
Down the hallway, it looks like I'm late for class. Only a few people are still around, dashing for their classes. Taking this as a warning, I give a little sprint for the door I know is my classroom.
The door is wide open and I can see at least thirty students inside. Sitting at their desks, or ontop, while chattering with one another. At the last second I shut off my music, and jog into class.
A man is standing in front of the black board, and it looks like he's joking around with one of the students. He's got red-gold hair, and kind eyes. But from my experience, those eyes could change in a split second.
He doesn't notice me, so I limp towards him and cough sarcastically. I've been told that I'm inept at socializing, but honestly I don't see anything wrong with giving a bit of attitude. Better than blindly obeying everything like a prissy little girl, right?
I'm forced to stand there with an impatient face, as this' Gildarts' stares at me for, I kid you not, five-fricken-minutes, until he somehow recognizes me. I know this because his face turns into one of the biggest grins I've ever seen.
"Ohhh, it's Lucky!"
"Lucy."
"I heard about you from the principal! It's already ten after, you know."
"Big deal. It's not like you've started class yet or anything."
He raises an eyebrow at me comically, and I wonder for a moment if he'll get mad, but he just chuckles. After the stress of living with Jude for so long, it's a good change to be around someone easy going.
"Better late than never, right Natsu?" he jabs his thumb at a pink-haired guy standing in front of him, the one he was joking with earlier. "This moron is Natsu. He's always late, so he knows what I mean."
The guy who is apparently called Natsu grins widely at me. "Yeah, one time I didn't show up for class," he paused, then added, "for a perfectly good reason! And the next day, this old man made me stay late for the next week! Just so that he wouldn't have to grade homework, either." turning to face Gildarts, he cracks a smirk. "Would you get in trouble if Gramps found out you let a student grade papers?"
Gildarts suddenly glares at Natsu. "The only one who would get in trouble is you, if they found out that you tried changing your grade!"
"Are you serious? That 'A' was ligitim… It was real, I'm telling you!"
"Ahaha, says the person who can't even say the right word!"
Sighing, I ignore the two arguing idiots, and glance at the class. I begin to notice that none of them are even reacting to what's-his-face and the teacher, even though they're screaming loud enough to make a normal person wince. The other students are going about their business like I noted before, without a glance at the two up front. Sighing, I shift my backpack to the other shoulder and shuffle through the rows, until I find an empty seat in the back. Luckily this school doesn't do 'double-desks' or whatever it's called, so I won't be forced to interact with a partner.
Shifting my gaze to the scene at the front of class being performed by two equally stupid humans, I turn my music back on and lay my head on my desk.
Something touching my shoulder causes my body to freeze, and I groggily open my eyes to blink slowly at a girl, who is staring at me with wide eyes. "Hey, Lucy!" she says rather loudly, still shaking me. When she sees that I've opened my eyes, she smiles in relief. "I thought you were unconscious! I've been trying to wake you up for at least five minutes," she laughs. "It's already lunch time-you slept through all of the first period."
And I wish I hadn't. All I gained from those few hours of sleep were more terrifying images to remain imprinted in my mind forever.
Sitting up, I study the girl in front of me, as well as who I'm guessing are her friends, who are also staring back at me. The girl who woke me up has shocking blue hair, almost as surprising as the boy with pink hair. Her friends' hair look pretty normal, except for a girl with white hair. Should I have dyed my hair green just to fit in?
The blue haired one offers her hand, which I ignore. She's smiling at me, though. "My name is Levy. Sorry for calling your name without introducing myself earlier, by the way."
Oh yeah, how did she known my name? Immediate distrust builds up in me, but she notices and laughs sheepishly. "Don't worry, I just read your introductory sheet there. This is your first day here, right? It's pretty surprising to get a new student in the middle of the semester-I hope you like it here!"
I don't have the patience to make small talk with this girl. Standing up abruptly, I hoist my backpack onto my shoulder and walk away. But before I'm gone, I glance over my shoulder. "Thanks for waking me up, I guess."
Levy giggles as I walk away.
Fairy Tail High's lunch room is apparently well-named. Literally just a large room full of chairs and tables, where students bring their lunches at noon. Is there no cafeteria? Why is this school so different from what I've heard about?
Well it's not like I have anyone to sit with anyways, so I choose a secluded table in the corner to sit at. My lunch consists of a few random fruits that I grabbed from the kitchen, and a sandwich. I would have let one of the maids pack me a lunch, but they'd probably do something so extravagant and stupid that I'd just be embarrassed. So I'm sitting by myself, staring at the blank wall.
Time passes slowly when you're bored. I know this from many years of experience, but I still l haven't found a way to fix that. It's not like I have anything to think about, to pass the time. So instead, I let my mind run free. If I hear a bell, I might drag it back.
"Woah, chick at nine o' clock!" this comment, followed by a whistle, pulls me out of my nap. Blinking slowly, I rub my cheek, which is now red from being pressed against the table. The one who spoke is a boy. I can't even think of a way to fully describe him. All I can say is that he looks like a complete hooker, a lady's man.
He has orange hair, and is wearing sunglasses. Looking at me with those filthy eyes? Needless to say, I'm disturbed. Closing my eyes again, I lay back down on the table.
"Hey hey, pretty lady, no need to be shy!" I get the feeling the pervert is walking towards me, but then someone else intervenes. "Loke, dude, can't you see she's not interested? You gotta learn to lay off, man."
Said person gave a laugh, and walked away with his friends. Relieved, I slowly drift off into a short cat-nap.
For the rest of the day, I'm trapped inside the building, sleeping whenever possible. This is the worst kind of torture I've ever experienced, but the nagging fear of Jude is still keeping me from running away. He did look really serious when he was telling me what he expected. Unfortunately for the old geezer, not a lot of people have any expectations from me, and I don't live up to the ones who do. So if he's expecting top class grades, sucks for him.
"Lucy, right?" I hear my name, and blink in surprise. How could I not have seen the teacher-person right in front of me? "What?" I ask dully.
"Class is over, kid. Do you need to stay for some reason?"
Now that this Gildarts mentions it, I don't really want to go back to that mansion. However, school is almost as bad. Getting up, I hoist my backpack over my shoulder, and plug in my headphones per-usual. Walking past the teacher, I turn up the volume and leave the room before he can say anything.
"So, Lucy, how was your first day of school?"
That unbearable smile, and sickening voice. Yup, that's Jude. Rolling my eyes, I kick off my sneakers. "Why does it matter? It was probably the most boring day of my life, if it matters that much."
I'm about to go up to my room, but Jude stops me with a harsh look. "What?" I snap.
What is with him? Is he gonna turn out like all the rest?
"Shoes are never left in the front hall. Bring them up to your room."
I still feel uneasy… Like, that's not what he was actually thinking? Frowning, I wait until he's gone before going back down to grab my shoes.
In my room, I drop my backpack on my bed, and collapse next to it. Much against my will, I accidentally learned a few things in school today. And although not as bad, they gave me homework. It's always been the most hated by high school students, but I've never minded it much. Probably because I never do it.
"Miss Lucy, dinner will be ready in a few minutes."
I hate this place. This stupid mansion and everyone living in it. I can't wait to get out of this system, that's for sure. Once I turn eighteen, I'm gonna hit the roads and make my own living.
"Would you like help getting ready?"
But first I have to deal with this crap for another two years. Two years, Lucy, you can do it. Deal with this, and the rest is a piece of cake.
As usual, dinner is elegant, and I couldn't care less. Of course the old man clearly doesn't like it, but every night I show up in my casual clothes. Why does he even care? I eat by myself. What, he fosters a kid and can't even sit down at the same table? Speaking of which, I still haven't figured out what his motives are. I mean, he obviously doesn't like me despite his pitiful efforts to hide it. He's rich! And in his eyes, I'm literally the dirt beneath his feet.
Whatever. As long as I'm out of here soon, it doesn't matter. Getting up, I leave my dishes for the maids and take a walk outside. I have to admit, it's pretty cool here. There are lots of gardens, which I'd only heard about before coming here. One of my favorites is the one way far out on the estate, which is ginormous by the way.
My one solace in this entire messed up place.
Thanks for reading.