Chapter Two

This wasn't so nice today as it should have been; the sun was out, high and mighty radiating heat of about thirty degrees Celsius. Not a could in the bright blue sky that proudly hung far over the ground, the birds chirped, dogs barked, it was beautiful out.

But me? I was about to die of some overheating crisis. Here I was, waiting for my buss in long blue jeans and a black hoodie, with nice black sunglasses. Spending two hours at the mirror to cover up my black eye and cheek and also have it passing as 'natural' was something that proved a challenge. But I managed. It was only slightly noticeable.

Dimmorta today, and most days, was not meant for clothing such as mine. But then again, in this lovely town, no one else seemed to be getting beatings from their fathers.

I was black and blue every where. I was positive that I had more than one broken bone. I winced as I shifted. Make that five. My ribs had taken most of the heat last night, but my arms and upper legs also had quite the fight. And on top of that, the scrapes from my fall. For all I knew I was going crazy and that I had imagined the guy as a comfort to my clumsy self. Being me, it seemed a reasonable explanation.

Accept on how real his hand felt when he helped me up… Who ever this 'he' person was. I never got a name. I was never asked for mine, and never had he offered up his own name.

Finally, that big ugly yellow bus pulled around the corner and stopped in front of me, the bus driver looking on at me, who was obviously getting heat stroke already, with amusement. Yes, people tend to take pleasure from my pain.

My hands were already clammy; I was sweating due to the heat, and the agony I was feeling, even after a shot of morphine, via my dad's home nurse… Who for the record thought I fell down the stairs again, and made me sit threw one of her painfully long lectures. Makes you just want to scream what really happened. But never was I to do that, even if it stopped the pain, I would be thrust on the streets, or into a house were I new no one. I rather be beat than in a strange place.

Must make me weird.

Oh well.

I climbed the bus steps with great caution. Eyes closed and teeth clenched. I then stood a moment, the door closed, and the bus driver, Freddie, chuckled before he started to drive. I nearly fell flat on my ass right then and there. But I managed to stay upright and walk down eight rows of seats to sit in the sanctuary of my seat at the back of the bus.

It wasn't so bad, besides the pain at every single bump in the road. But half an hour after getting on, and ten people later, we were at Dimmorta High School.

Later that day, at lunch

God, math and science first in the day was absolutely and undeniably a living hell that no one disserved. Obviously, I seemed to 'disserve' this, as it happened EVERY single day for a whole blasted semester.

But it was lunch. Time to eat, though as my jaw was soar as a bitch I knew ahead of time it wasn't going to be an easy task.

Walking towards my table, as in MY table, alone, no one ever sitting there, it was always left for me. And it was… Full… There were five strange kids…

Then I recognized one of them from the boy last night, my eyes felt like they were going to pop. He had a bloody twin also. As I looked at the five at my table, I felt anger flooding over me, most likely because of the surge of pain my body just got to. Storming over with a wild look of anger on my face, I stopped, with my back pack nearly weighing me down, and hands on hips, sun glasses still on causing a near run in with the table and about five people.

"Excuse me, this is my table"

The looked up, and continued to eat without talking, not a single word to me. What arrogant little pricks! So much for the hot godly guy being a nice person.

"I SAID, this is MY table. MINE. As not yours, get bent and find your own goddamn table!"

Not really a smart thing to say, because right then the biggest of them, a boy about six foot, and totally ripped, got up with a start, staring down at me, for a fleeting moment I let panic reach me. I nearly flinched at him. Boy did that send images of my father to me. I clenched my aching fists together, biting the inside of my mouth for control.

"Sorry miss, but this here table is currently being used"

The guy was so intimidating, and his voice was threatening. God that pissed me off how easily he was scaring me. Last night my date was tall, like my dad. But this guy, his eyes, or something was truly making me feel like I was taking on my dad. But I refused to let people see the fear I had of this new guy.

I stuck out my finger, and poked him in the chest region.

"Mine, ask anyone here. I am the freak who sits at this table. Piss off. Please and thank you"

That's when that ape, as if trying to show how retarded I seemed, poked me. For the record… I knew I was acting like a stupid little kid. Not hard, but it hit me in one of my ribs, one of which I am MORE than sure is broken. And I just doubled over in pain. I felt hot embarrassment flow to my cheeks. The guy was very surprised and shocked, and even looked guilty.

Hot tears were in my eyes, I had to get out of there as soon as possible. I got up fast, thus hurting myself further, the boy that I assumed was the one that helped me last night had a look as if he felt sorry for me. I turned around, put my head up and stormed out trying to cling to what pride I had left.

Of course I stormed right out the school and into the path of the little forest out back. That's when I let the tears fall. The moist salty liquid did a dance down my cheeks, ruining the cover up I had.

I never let anyone see me fall apart, not even my dad. He saw me scream, fight. But never break, never fall apart. But here I was, hiding in the trees and doing just that, out of the sight of anyone's scrutinizing eyes. How agonizing it was to have those eyes on you for all the wrong reasons.

And that tall boy, who ever he was that guy seemed to have my mind sending me warnings.

My subconscious was telling me to keep away. He would be just like my father. But in my mind I knew something was stranger than that, that there was more than the fear he struck deep into my heart.

But here I was thinking as I fell apart, now how many people could multitask like me? Now, that's when I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump in shock, causing pain, thus causing more tears.

How embarrassing.

I lived to be strong, to hide what happened behind closed doors. And now I was starting to sweat and over heat. Trying to reign in my rollercoaster of emotions as the person again had a gentle hand on me, pulling me in and holding me.

Soft comforting sounds whispered in a beautiful voice to my ear along with the thunder of my erratic heart.

"Shhh. Its okay", the voice said gently, "just let it out"

For some strange reason I felt safe in the arms of this stranger, as I could not see who it was threw the thick fall of salty tears. My body was convulsing in pain and also because of the deepening sobbing. The embarrassment was leaving me, it felt… Freeing, to let out all of the bottled emotions, it felt liberating to have someone who acted they cared.

Even if it couldn't be true, it was a good feeling. But then I realized what I was doing, I let my walls come tumbling down in front of someone. I pulled back and flinched. Then that beautiful deep, yet somehow light voice spoke to me calmly.

"Did he poke you hard?"

I sniffed and felt confusion sinking in. What… Did who poke me hard…?

"Oh… No, he didn't, just in a soar spot"

One of the guy's hands rubbed my back lightly, despite the bruises and bones that were more than likely broken, it didn't hurt. The light touch felt healing… No… It felt… Numbing. I had finally taken notice to the fact that we were both on the ground, and my face was buried in a firm chest with a cinnamon scent.

I had gone to move off of the stranger to dry my eyes, but his one arm had become firm, his voice was low and soothing. I looked up at the stranger in question and instantly shock took over my entire body. It was the blonde boy, the one I saw last night, one of the new kids at the table. Our eyes connected, and as if locked, they would not move from his own.

He had a frown furrowing his handsome face. He was beautiful, my lord I think I fell in love with him, his brown eyes with such light, concern in them. He was looking right at me, directly, he wasn't looking threw. It looked like he actually cared.

But he didn't know me, I was a snob to his friends or family, what ever they were, and him. Why would someone care after all that was thrown in their faces. He stopped rubbing my back now, but I felt nothing, but my eyelids were so heavy. I felt them being pulled down by invisible weights. I clung to him, even if I was kneeling on the ground, again our eyes connected.

And everything was black.