A Hateful Family

I was still probably shocked because when the boy asked 'are you ok' I jumped so high I was like a kangaroo! I got up and picked up my book bag (which he had nicely put some papers in already.) "Yeah I'm totally fine." The boy looked me over. "You looked like you were lost. Need help finding a locker or something? I know this school inside and out. Except if you're locker 706 I can't help you there." His locker was probably 707 or 705 and he said that because he can't find his locker. Then, as I was about to tell him my response a boy about 6 feet tall crept behind him. "Hey loser having a nice day?" the guy laughed. "Hey, you must be the new girl." People already knew me here?! I nodded my head yes then he shouted to his friends, "Hey guys let's show her what we like to do Michael here!" The boy's name was Michael? Cute name. Honestly, what is wrong with my brain!

The boy backed away slowly. Sadly, he was no match for the 6-foot tall bully. He grabbed him and held him high above his head. "Put me down!" the boy yelled. Instead, the bullies pushed up his arm sleeves and took out a paring knife. What on earth! These bullies have to be stopped. The boy screamed. Then, the bullies dropped him and he ran away. I could have sworn I saw tears in his eyes. He was only trying to be nice. I felt bad that I didn't step up and tell the bullies to stop. The bullies were laughing so hard they were crying. "Wasn't that funny new girl!" the bully laughed. "Man he ran so fast, doesn't he have any common sense to know we won't actually be stabbing him!" I just walked away to find the boy. Of course, I didn't find him, I wondered where he went. I went to all my classes, but I was barely paying attention. I kept on thinking about the boy.

I went home that afternoon and used my key to get inside. I went to the kitchen and opened the pantry. I took out a bag of chips and started munching. I had tons of homework to do and while munching the chips I would do my homework. There was something about polynomials. I didn't know how to solve these! When I was done with all my homework my mom had come back. She was wearing her signature coat that dad gave her. "Hello sweetie, how was school today?" I gave her a thumbs up meaning it was good.

"How was work?" I asked her.

"Amazing!" she responded. She sat down with me and turned on the television. I looked at the screen and saw mass rioting. My mom was shaking her head and turned off the channel. "I'll be in my room if you need me, remember you only have 10 more minutes then you have to sleep!" She walked into her room and shut the door behind her.

~~~~

That's my regular life. Threatened to be killed by bullies. I hate them. I hate Brandon, I hate this stupid, idiotic, life. I go to my favorite part in this whole entire junkyard I call a school, the janitor's closet. The janitor is actually nice. We both are pretty similar. We both lack friends, we both hate this school, and we both want to complain but can't. We both don't want to complain for different reasons. I don't want to because I'm scared they won't believe me, after all Brandon was a "sweet little angel" and would never do something like that to me. The janitor does not want to because he needs his job. The janitor liked me enough to give me a key to the janitor's closet and that's where I spend most of my regular life. Why do they threaten me so much? Am I that hateable? I mean, I feel like I'm an amicable person, and an amicable person is friendly, right?

I wiped away the tears I had in my eyes and peeked back outside. Great. So much for first impressions. Not only did she seem different from all the other girls, but she now knows the true me. The me who is too weak to stand up to bullies. All I want, and all I need, is one chance to prove I'm not a weirdo and that I am actually capable of making a friend. That chance did come, the chance to make an actual friend, and I blew it. Like usual! Then, I reached into my pocket and took the picture of me and my parents. This was my 6th birthday party. Just two weeks before the "incident" happened. Two weeks before they came into the house, and killed them. I looked at myself how happy I am and sighed. I looked at my parents' happy faces and started tearing up again. I missed them, a lot. They would know what to do.

Then, 6 hours later the bell ring for the end of the school day. I miserably walked home to my foster parent's house. I sighed, they'll probably force me to clean the house again. I opened the door and Janice called out, "You forgot to clean the house yesterday squirt! Get to it!" I knew it. She handed me a mop and bucket. I sighed and started working. Then, she called out, "And don't get the clothes dirty! They're your brother's!"

"It would help if you gave me an apron! And he's not my brother!" I shouted back.

"Isn't letting a slob like you live and eat in our house enough! You're lucky I even sent you to that private school! Also, he is too your brother! If this foster care is going to work then I need you to cooperate and start cleaning!" she shouted. "Now, get to work!" Her?! Pay for my private school education?! She went into my mom's bank account and took out all the money for herself! She only sent me to private school to send the police off her track. I started the chores muttering about my stupid life under my breath. Mopping the floors, drying the dishes. Basically any horrible chore you could think of, I did on a daily basis. It was absolutely miserable.

Finally, the day turned to night and my chores were over. Janice grudgingly handed me a spoon and a bowl filled with exactly 5 peas. "Umm... Janice, I did 15 chores today, don't I get 15 peas?"

"You eat what you get," Janice growled. And so I went up to my room eating the 5 peas along the way. After I ate the 5 peas I took the plastic bowl up to my room and put it in my closet. I knew that Janice was going to hit me again if she didn't find the bowl but I didn't care. I just needed a couple of more bowls to sell and I had enough money to buy a bus fare out of here. I sat down on my bed and started doing my homework. Maybe... I looked at my phone. Well, actually it wasn't mine. It was my so-called "brother's" phone. He just grew out of it and got a better model. I tried to remember the orphanage's number. However, every time I felt like I remembered it I forgot it right after. Then I remembered all the digits of the number. I quickly dialed the number but no one picked up. I laid down on my bed. Nope, I was stuck here.