Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters except the one you do not know. Back to the story.
High School: Part 2
Later that night at our motel room, the boys were arguing over something unimportant. I was in the bathroom examining my body. I would never admit it but what the other girls said hurt me. So as I was looking in the mirror I noticed I had a bit of fat on my thighs and hips. With a sigh I walked out of the bathroom and plopped onto the couch, in between the boys.
"Hey Dean?" He turned to face me curiously.
"Yeah. What's up shorty?"
"Would you date me, if you could?" This was my way of asking if I was attractive or not without having to spill my guts.
"Yeah, why?" Dean was instantly suspicious of my fishing.
"No reason." I gave him a smile before turning my attention to Sammy. "Gone with the Wind."
"Yeah!" Sammy cheered and slid the VHS in the video player. This distracted Dean enough to watch the proceedings in front of him.
"NO!" he cried out dramatically. But he settled down to watch anyway.
Four hours later and I watched the ending enraptured by the movie plot although I had seen it several times. I had laughed, cried, yelled, giggled, and now I was waiting anxiously. "And frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!"
"What a fool you are Scarlet!" I sobbed, throwing popcorn at the TV.
"Stop that! You are the one whose cleaning it up!" Dean scolded. "Let's go to bed." I shook Sammy awake and then the three of us fell asleep – I was sharing with Dean.
The next week went by smoothly. Then the hiccup came. The people saw my scars. They assumed I was emo and spread it all over the school. My father gave me those scars almost nine years ago now. It had been a night when he was soo pissed drunk, he threw a vase at me.
The girls especially were cruel. The mocked me all day long. They picked at me, pulled my hair, jabbed me with a pencil, anything they could do. Dean attempted to help me whenever he could, but that wasn't too often as we didn't have to many classes together. Sammy figured out the torment I was going through from a classmate in his class.
Then came the day that Dad came to pick us up. I was in tears, Sammy was beaming, and Dean was scowling. Dean and I couldn't wait to get far enough away from that horrible school.
"Dad?" I asked.
"Hmm Isis?"
"Please, never make me go to school again," I begged, wiping my tears in the backseat of the Impala.
"Fine," he agreed.
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise Isis," with a relieved sigh I sank back into the Impala's leather seats and relaxed for the first time in two weeks.