Chapter three
Should I **even** be
T
R
Y
I
N
G
?
Trying isn't good enough
for anybody.
Everybody
In
The
School
Talks to the
Angels
And
When I
Was
Younger
That was
Called
Popularity.
I'm not
Popular
Because I'm
Not
The angel
That I want to
Desperately
Be.
Sakura came out of the girl's bathroom looking paler than she used to.
Her stomach was killing her every time after she purged up anything she ate.
It was nearing the end of lunch and her arm wrapped around her stomach, noticing that the other angels never did this.
Never.
Teeth clamped down on a lower lip as she shut her eyes.
Her inside muscles contracted and she fled back into the room she just walked out of, pushing open the dirty stall and she immediately fell to her knees—shakingshakingshaking—because nothing came out of her mouth except for dry heaves.
She wasn't scared though.
Nope.
Because most of the time it felt like this—like this—like feeling on the brink of death, but knowing you're not going to die, and you don't know why.
However, it hurt.
A lot.
Sasuke had been coming downstairs from the roof, tired of his fan-girls idiotically following him around
everywhere.
Walking to his locker, the boy ran his fingers through his hair taking a second to admire his clan wring that was wrapped snugly around his right thumb, and entered his combination.
The school was stupid—very stupid.
The teachers were stupid.
The girls were stupid.
Hell, his best friend was probably smarter than the girls that tried to sexually harass him.
Finally opening his locker, the raven began switching his books for the rest of the day and didn't expect to hear a choked sob, especially since the hallway was eerily quiet a few moments ago.
Sasuke walked up to the girl's bathroom door and leaned against the water-fountain by it, curious as to who was crying.
Whoever it was, they were trying to stifle it—but failed miserably and he only caught a few words that came from the bathroom near him.
It was something about angels.
The Uchiha shook his head and started walking away, slamming his locker close as he passed by it.
It's probably just another fan-girl.
My
Stomach
Hurt a lot
And when I
Started walking
Home
(can i
even call it
that?)
My insides
Felt
Like
They were trying
To be turned
Inside out
By the melted
Faces in
My room
That laughed,
Amused
At my
Unbearable
Pain.
I yelled at them
To stop
But that
Only
Got my
Father to slip in the room
With his leather belt that
Swished out of his
Jean holes.
I heard
The whoosh of
It going into
The air and
I
Bit
Back
A
Scream.
Like a good
Little angel.
The red marks stung as she struggled to pull her school uniform shirt down to hide the hideous splotches that tainted her not-so-yet angel skin.
She felt numb, she felt sososo numb—and she hated it.
Because it only feels worse when the feeling shook out of her system and is replaced by hot, searing pain.
Sakura leaned on her side and didn't move a muscle, as if she was supposed to feel better—get better.
She didn't have any energy to purge, but she thought of the tinytinytiny waist and the ringing laughter the popular girls gave that she could never really mimic.
That gave her enough of a power boost to stagger to the bathroom and shut the door.
A/N: I think I'll stop there for now. Review please, they make me happy.