Sandra and her mother drove up in front of Shermer High in their tiny, ugly BMW. Oh, how the teen hated this car! She would've screamed at her parents to get a better car or get the old one fixed up, but her parents would've hit her for yelling at them. And that was something she didn't want to happen to her again.
"So you gonna learn your goddamn lesson and not do that shit again?!" Her mother yelled. Sandra rolled her eyes and nodded silently.
"Look at me and talk, you fucking good-for-nothing jag-off!" Her mother screamed. Sandra glared at her mother.
"Yes, Mother." She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes again. Her mom, a middle-aged blonde woman, looked as if she was going to slap her daughter across the face right then and there.
"Good. Now get the hell out of the car." Sandra's mother grumbled something about being unfortunate in having a disrespectful whore-like shithead for a daughter as the teenager grabbed her lunch bag, got out of the car and slammed the door forcefully, making the rust bucket shake a little. Then, she turned and watched as her mother quickly drove away, and boy, was she glad to be getting rid of that old fucking hag for a few hours.
She sighed and covered up the bruises, burns, and scars from the cuts (yes, they cut her as well) on her right arm with the sleeve of her black leather jacket, humming 'Breathe Me' by Sia as she walked up the steps.
She watched as the other five teens that were in detention with her walked up as well. One particular teenager, probably 18, intrigued her, though. He wore dark sunglasses over his eyes and his hair, which was dark brown with a visible bluish streak, hung just over his shoulders. She smiled slightly, then pulled her jacket closer towards her body and continued up the steps.