It's Thursday, after school and I'm stuck in study hall, in detention.
If only Stone could learn how to take some healthy criticism.
There are about twenty other kids in here, all the regulars I guess. Mr. Stone has given me lines to do, 'I shall not question the preaching of those who are qualified to do so'. I roll my eyes; this method of punishment was so medieval. I was told to write as much as I could, so I would learn to remember not continue to 'preach to the preacher'. After about two and a-half pages I stop. I stand and walk to Mr. Stone's office, which is across from the study hall. I knock on the door and another teacher answers.
"Umm, is Mr. Stone here?" I mumble. "Brad, it's for you" she says, maneuvering around me, to get out.
"Ah, Miss Swan, are we done?" he asks smiling, from his desk. I look at him, not smiling still standing in the doorway.
"Yes sir. I am converted" I sigh, "Can I leave now?" I ask.
"Yes you may." He says as he shoos me out the door
I turn on my heels and walk towards the door. I start walking towards home when I see Rosalie's shiny black BMW in the car park. She spots me through the windshield and waves me over.
"Hey Bella" she says, when I open the passenger door.
"Hey Rose" I say and I sit down.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"Step monster is being a tool so figured I would come and save you from the slog home in the rain"
"But its not-" and before I got a chance to finish my sentence, there was a crack of thunder and the rain comes pouring down.
"-raining" I finish. Rose chuckles as she turns the car on.
"So what did we learn about Literature today?" she questions in a mock motherly tone. She does that a lot- the mock motherly tone- she's still a little bitter about her own mother's death, and with mine walking out when I was three, I have my own reasons to be bitter.
"I am now converted, I shall not preach to the preacher" I say in the most sophisticated voice I can do.
She laughs a little but it sounds forced.
"Bells, I don't think you should ever be afraid of speaking your mind"
"Rose, you know that I am not like that" I whisper, looking out the side window. I always wished that I were prettier, braver, and smarter. I have always wanted to be someone that I wasn't, someone like Rosalie, who everyone loved to be around and was intelligent or Lauren, who everyone gawked at and adored but when I came here, I realised that I could not be those things because people never noticed me, so I just kept quiet and evidently I became invisible.
"Yeah you are! You are smart, beautiful, confident and spontaneous. Don't listen to those idiots like Lauren and Paul… they're never going to get anywhere in life. But you-" she says glancing at me. "You're amazing."
I don't reply, I wouldn't know what to say, Rosalie's not exactly known for her ability to be serious. We spend the next five minutes in silence. When we get to my place I jump out of the car quickly to avoid any awkward silences between us and wave as she drives away.
I hasten to the front door and head straight to my room. I quietly close the door and turn on my iPod in the dock. John Mayer's voice fills my room, and I breathe slowly, trying to relax. Seeing as I had already completed all my homework the previous night, I was stumped for ideas on what to do.
I decided to take a hot shower. I gathered all the things I would need to use, and made my way to the bathroom. When I get there I lock the door and turn on the light. I strip into my bra and undies and take my hair out of the ponytail at the back of my head and I allow my long brown hair to fall around my shoulders. I look into the mirror to see if I could see something where my reflection is supposed to be. I step forward, still gazing, amazed that there was some thing starring back at me.
I slowly raise my hand to my face and place it on my cheek. I feel the warmth of my skin; I watch as my cheeks begin blushing a pale pink. I always have blushing cheeks. I begin moving my fingers across my small nose, I am thankful that God blessed me with my mothers nose, as my fathers is pretty big. My nose has no bump like most people. It is dainty and well shaped. I move my fingers up my nose toward my eyebrows. I trace my right brow.
I have no brow bone, but I do have thin, naturally shaped eyebrows, which I rarely have to pluck, thank God. Next I look into the reflection of my eyes in the mirror. I lean right in to the mirror so that the tip of my nose is lightly pressed up against it; I can feel the how cold the glass of the mirror is. My eyes are almond shaped, lined with many thin lashes. My eyes are not too big and not to small, they are in between. But they are boring. Dirt brown stares back at me, dull and lifeless eyes, portal to the soul my ass.
If people actually looked into them they would see a mixture of mystery, sadness and a thirst for adventure, but seeing as I am invisible, people can't look into my eyes, so the adventurous desire that is in them is a hidden desire I will never experience. Lastly there are my lips, which sit at the bottom of my face, alone and away from the other features. My lips are plump and a dark pink.
They hardly ever stay closed; I always have the smallest gap between them and if you look long enough you can usually see my orthodontic straight teeth through the gap. Finally I reach the rest of my body, the curvy hourglass figure. Suddenly I shiver violently and feel Goosebumps rise all over my body. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as well. I quickly strip naked and jump into the shower.
I turn on the hot water immediately, forgetting how cold I was, I accidentally scorch myself. After a few moments my body temperature changes with the hot running water. I stand still and allow the water to fall gently over my body.
After standing in the shower for five minutes, slowly relaxing the muscles in my body, I shampoo and condition my hair, scrub my body and cleanse my face. After fifteen minutes I am done. I step out of the shower carefully so I don't slip and fall. I dry myself quickly so I can slip into my track-suit pants and hooded jumper.
I towel dry my hair and clean up the mess I made. I make my way to the laundry.
I throw my clothes into the washing basket and head back to the lounge planning to watch television. However dads at the kitchen table working- police reports and what not scattered all around and decide its probably better if I just hang out in my room- dads not the most pleasant person to be around when he's working.
I walk straight to my room without breathing a word. When I get there I walk around my bed to the wall that contains all of my photos. I look at each picture for a moment or two. The whole wall contained stills of my life that I would never be able to live again; all the happiest memories that I am unable to ever feel again.
Eventually I come across one picture in particular. It is of Rosalie and I at camp last year. It was when we went to Mt Rushmore; I remember that day so well, like it was yesterday. In the photo Rosalie and I are cuddling each other.
I am surprised to see that I am in the picture; I did not know that people who were invisible could be seen in pictures. Anyway, there is Rosalie and I, we were still at our old school, enjoying the environment we were in, all the people were nice there, teachers were fun loving and laid back, everything was perfect, my life there, was perfect.
You can tell by our faces that we are just happy. Rosalie long blonde hair curled and bouncy, her pale skin is glowing, her blue eyes warm and inviting and then there is her jaw-dropping smile that lights up the entire picture. Then there is me; with my gigantic smile, which could not even melt ice, my brown hair kinky and wild, and my pale skin glistening in the sunlight. I pull the picture off the wall to take a closer look.
Where had the girl I was in that picture gone? What happened to her? Am I the human shell she left behind? All these questions begin racing through my mind. Ever since I had moved schools everything I knew about myself was lost. I used to be the girl who was accused of being on drugs most of the time, laughing hysterically, jumping around and virtually making people wet themselves with laughter, but now I don't even attempt to smile most of the time. Even if I do it is so weak and fake that I know people can tell.
I place the photo back onto my wall and look over at my alarm clock; it's only nine-thirty. I have nothing better to do so I crawl into bed. I turn on my lamp and I stare into space. After what feels like minutes, I look at my alarm clock again; it's now one in the morning. I roll over onto my back and sigh. School in seven hours…I was dreading it.
I am sitting on the bus to school. The morning ride to school is the worst part of the day, and why is this? This is because every morning I step on the bus and no one looks at me, and no I am not exaggerating. Like this morning for example, when I get on the semi-packed bus no one looks up, I know this because every single morning I check to see if someone glances, it's my ritual. I stand at the bus door for at least a minute before I even decide to get on.
Even my prolonged pause does not attract any attention. I always sit on the second seat from the front, so every time someone walks in I am able to see if the bus pays any attention. And the moment I turn my head every time, the whole bus looks up from what they are doing and watch closely as if the person at the front door of the bus is about to give the answer to solve peace in the middle east, but for me not even one glance. I have now become immune to my concealment from these people. Like the saying "men are from Mars and women are from Venus", this saying is very true in my books but slightly adjusted. For me it's "teenagers are from Earth and Bella is from Pluto". But what am I to do? No one sees me; no one listens to me so obviously no one cares. And before I know it I am at school.
"Dear God, save me now!" I mumble to myself. The bus comes to a complete halt; I heave myself off the grey seated bus and saunter toward the bus' exit and climb down the stairs, I however have to stabilize myself to ensure that I do not end up on the concrete, face down. I make my way through the iron gates into the school grounds. There are pigeons everywhere; everyone becomes nervous when a pigeon makes an escape through the locker bay at my school, no one wants pigeon crap in their hair these days, which is understandable. I make it to my locker and it is completely empty around me, which is nothing, unusual. Bobbing down I quickly spin my lock this way and that then pull down hard to open it. I quickly throw in my bag and slam my locker shut. I sit on the cold concrete stairs near my locker. It's thirty minutes until my first class… where is Rose?,
"Dear God, save me now"…
The next thing I know, I am in Psychology. This class infuriates me because absolutely no one can read. Pronunciation is another language to these people. People in this class mix up simple words such as 'to' and 'or'; the list of muck-ups is endless. Nevertheless, my invisibility detains me from gaining the spotlight; as you can see I am even invisible even to my teachers. So every psychology class I sit in the back corner, in silence and I shake my head in dismay at the abilities of my peers. When the bell rings my living ordeal of hell is discontinued, and I am severely grateful.
"Bella, there you are!" shouts Rosalie from the other side of the courtyard as I make my way out of the 'L' block.
"You, me tonight at 'The Cult'" she squeals with excitement. "I got great tickets, at the last minute of course, and I really, really want you to come" Rose said pleadingly.
'The Cult' is a bar in Seattle known for its grungy music and abundance of hipsters, I hate hipsters.
"Ah, Rosalie….I….umm…can't….i have…ah…a stack of homework…I have to do…", "Bullshit! You told me yesterday that you finished all your homework and I know that you're lying, you can't look me in the eye" she whined.
"Please. C'mon Bella, please go with me" she pleaded. Rosalie looked at me with pleading eyes, she caught my bluff, and what else was I to do?
"Fine" I blurted, throwing my right hand in the air.
"Thanks" she squealed, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Love you", Rosalie quickly let go, "See you in a sec" she says. I shuffle toward my locker, with my stomaching growling for food. Suddenly I am propelled to the ground. My books, pencil case and folders are scattered across the school courtyard and I a split second later, I feel the harsh concrete under my knees. "Sorry mate didn't see you there" some Aussie football fanatic says, with no amount of remorse in his voice. I glare at him with fury; no need to worry about total humiliation, as I am invisible. Picking myself up, I gather all my belongings briskly and rush towards my locker.
Throwing my books in, I grab some food and pace back in the direction I came from to where Rosalie is sitting.
"Oh my God, Bella…you're bleeding!" she exclaims, pointing at my legs. I look down to where she is pointing; blood is trickling from my knee down to my ankle.
"Oh for fucks sake" I exhale. "Hey I'll be right back" I say, throwing my food at her and limping toward the toilet. When I get there the blood from the gash on my knee has trickled down to my shoes, and is all over my white socks. I turn on the tap and prop my leg onto the sink.
I begin wetting my hands and wiping away the excess blood. After a few quick wipes, the bleeding has stopped. I run to the first cubical and rip of some toilet paper and wipe my leg clean.
"That's better" I mumble to myself. I walk out and go back to Rosalie. "What happened?" she asked.
"Cameron Steel knocked me over, apparently he didn't see me" I exclaim sarcastically.
"Oh" she whispers. Rosalie knows how I feel about myself; she does not question anything I say anymore. Her silence is my support. We both spend our break in total silence. When the bell goes we stand up, smile and go our separate ways. That is the beauty of our friendship.