Chapter 1: How To Save A Life By Stephanie C. Hanna ( FROM CHAPTER ONE!!)

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 211
Comments: 1

Eveline Gronswell
“ Hey , emo chick , watch where the hell your going” SLAM.

I have just learned to except it.
I have learned to except the fact that for the rest of my days in this hell they call high school , I will basically have the same worth as the ground I was being pushed and thrown onto every day.
I have also learned to excpet that no matter how hard I tried to get people to say “ Evie”,
EMO seemed to be the name everyone preffered for me.

“ Man, come here! Ha ha , you have gotta see this on the floor!”
I pick up all of my books and head for the classroom door , when Evan ,once again ,comes in the way. Evan is the jokester in this hell hole. He likes to make jokes out of everything and everything , and in his mind , I am the best thing he has to make fun of.
I keep my head down and try to turn the other way , but he quickly blocks me with one of his arms. For a scrawny freshman , he is pretty strong. He stares at me for a moment , then crouches down where my head is facing . He looks up at me , seeing my hazel eyes fill with tears seems to amuse him. He smirks slightly , then pouts mockingly. “ I’m sorry I pushed you” He said , with a tone that made me want to punch him in the face. “ Maybe this would help” He says , the same damn smirk still on his face. I know he is going to try to kiss me . As he leans in I am looking at him , teriffied. I quickly turn my head , hitting him in the face with my head. making him fall to the ground . Both of his hands our over his left eye , and I know what I have done . I step over him and run down the hallway, I felt proud and scared at the same time , which is a very scary thing. I look back and see him getting up. I quickly step into my next class , and take a sigh of relief. I close my eyes , enjoying the moment of freedom. “ Sorry I’m la-” I open my eyes to reveal a dark room with cleaning supply’s and a mop . “ What are you here for?” a high- pitched voice says from behind me. “ What the ...” I turn around to see a girl with white-blond hair , and thick eyeliner , and black tears staining her ivory-pale face. “ Um, this is a closet?” The girl cocks her head to one side , and brings it back up. The expression on her face tells me that she must think I am an idiot. “ Obviously this is a CLOSET. And I asked you , why are you in it?” I roll my eyes at her rude attempt to ask me a question , but answer it anyway. “ I was being harassed by Evan” . She has a blank look on her face , and raises her eyebrows. “ Evan ? Which Evan?” I open my mouth at the fact she has no clue who the most disgusting , perverted , idiotic and extremely troubled person that was Evan. “ Evan. Evan Moore” I say , my eyes still wide. “ THAT sweet kid! You have no clue what your talking about , he is the funniest and nicest kid I know. And extremely hot. I roll my eyes at that remark. “You emo girls really do like all the attention don’t you?” She said staring at me with a look that was so damn ugly it couldn’t be described as mean. ‘Wait , what? You think I would actually tell you I was being harassed by him if I wasn’t. For ATTENTION. Go to hell , I don’t even know why I’m still here” I open the door and slam it behind me , leaving her in the dark.
I has missed almost all my classes for the day , being beaten up , made fun of , then made fun of some more , so I walked home. I walked home before the bell rang , as I ususally do every day, when the same things happen. In my green skinny’s and my B.O.T.D.F tank top , I was getting too hot. Arizona is not exactlly the place where people wear black. Excpet for me , the emo slut. The underneath of my hair is even black , the top layer a light blond. I have 2 stud-piercings on my bottom lip that have been ripped out by Evan many times , so my lips are really torn up from that. I have a belly button peircing , which has also been tugged on and a tounge peircing that he has not even tried to touch. My eyes are blue , and I have always been pale , but I get darker in this heat. I keep walking , until I find the tree house in the forest behind the school . I walk through that forest every day to get to my house , it’s kind of like a long way home , instead of a shortcut. I am out of the house every chance I get , ecxept for when my step- brother and step- father are gone , which they are for the next 2 weeks. But today I don’t care if I’m going home to find 12 year old Charolette in her bedroom , convinced our step-father will come back early and beat her , and do “ bad things” to me. I was her only protecter , since our mother ran away from us , and our abusive step-father. And usually I would feel like a jerk for not caring. But today I had been through enough. I climbed up the ladder of the old treehouse and put my headphones in my ears. I blasted the loudest , angriest music I could find. An avalanche of tears was forming in my eyes , wanting me to let go.
So I did.
A pile of gushing tears came out of my eyes with no emotion.
I sat there , crying silentley , keeping my eyes on the ipod , that was becoming blurrier with each tear drop forming in my eyes. I layed down on the floor of the beaten- up treehouse , and since it was so beaten up , most of the roof had been thrown off my careless kids , who had no clue this is where I did my best thinking and feeling sorry for myself. I am pathetic. I let the tears run down the sides of my face. No use in wiping them when they are going to be replaced with new ones I thought to myself. Escape to my fate starts playing loudly in my ipod. The band I listen to when I have my happy moments . Ha , kidding. I close my eyes . Still listening , I open my backpack and reach my hand in , pulling out a pocket-knife my mother gave me a few days before she left. “ You might need it some day“ is what she said . I didn‘t know what It meant at the time. Now , it makes perfect sense. Starring at the knife , then at my wrists , I flip open the knife and hold it to my wrist , pressing down , I scream , and drop onto the floor of the treehouse. I look at my ipod. Everything is getting softer , and less painful , which I don’t understand. The music is getting lower and lower.. CHAPTER 2 HERE :

Submitted: November 08, 2011

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this is great :D
keep it up

Tue, January 17th, 2012 1:00am

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