Hell's Daughter (GirlxGirl)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1) - Chapter One

Submitted: October 05, 2014

Reads: 341

Comments: 3

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Submitted: October 05, 2014



I watched Mary walk down the hallways like she owned them. Stupid, perfect Mary Ashley. The girl who can make even the school’s hottest guy, James fall down at her feet. I sighed as everyone parted like the red sea and stared at her with wide, gleaming eyes. I leaned against my locker moodily.


I was bitter but maybe that was because I was jealous. Heck, of course I was jealous. Who wouldn’t be? Mary was flawless. She had long golden locks that flowed down her back, crystal blue eyes that sparkle when she laughs, and beautiful tan skin that shines in the sun. She was the most popular girl in the school and I know that’s cliché but imagine the most popular person you’ve ever read in a story and times that by a million… you’ll get Mary.


Her name is a contradiction to her personality. She’s anything but the Virgin Mary. I’ve heard rumours that she’s slept with almost all the guys in this wretched school. She’s a slut, plain and simple. But at least she isn’t the school’s freak. At least she isn’t the Emo who cuts herself because she has no friends.


I roll my eyes as I realise I’m feeling sorry for myself again. After all, it wasn’t Mary’s fault that I did this to myself. I unconsciously rub my fingers against the scars that are hidden under my sweater and sigh. I know that this is my fault but I can’t help but resent her.


Mary and I used to be best friends a couple of years back. I knew all her secrets; she knew all mine. But of course, I should have known better than to believe that someone as gorgeous, as mysterious as her would be the perfect friend. She was lying to me the whole time. She was pretending to be my best friend, my sister, the whole time. I told her one little thing, and she repeated it to the whole school. She told them everything. The sad thing is, is that I still miss her. I still want her by my side every day.


It disgusts me.


And here I am, sad, lonely, depressed. After my ‘secret’ got out, I was avoided like the plague. It’s been two years and I’ve officially been labelled the school’s freak after my locker being vandalised with the words: Emo dyke freak. I still don’t know who did it but I’m pretty sure it was James and his stupid posse.


The sudden silence of the hallway brought me back to present and I saw a poor boy getting Mary’s famous glare. I stared at him in sympathy, wondering what she was going to do to him. Seeing as Mary is ‘Queen Bee,’ she could make any person’s life miserable if she didn’t like them. For example, me. The boy couldn’t have been older than 15 and he was clearly quivering in his shoes. His brown eyes staring at Mary in fear and, I almost snorted, desire. See, that was another thing. No matter how awful Mary acted, everyone still wanted her. Guys were constantly asking her out and girls stalked her. I think I even saw a ‘Mary Ashley Fan Page,’ on Facebook. I almost threw my laptop at the wall when I saw that.


“Move, get out of my way.” I heard Mary hiss lowly to the boy. He didn’t waste any time and he ran down the hallway and turned out of sight. I was shocked. Mary never let a victim go. Ever. Something must be up, but I shoved the desire to talk to her down my throat. I can’t talk to Mary, ever again. Not after she made it clear that she hated me, and I quote, “Get out of my face dyke. You’re disgusting and I never want to see you near me again. Scum like you shouldn’t deserve to live.” That stung like hell and I ran home crying, wandering what I had done. That was the first time my razor met my skin.


It’s getting harder and harder to turn up at school; to hear the whispers that follow me everywhere and to feel the hated glares on my back. The only thing I’m grateful for is that when Mary’s around, nobody notices me. It’s like I don’t exist and I love it.


I think I’m allergic to people, or people are allergic to me. Day by day I die a little inside. Day by day my razor drips red. Day by day I stand alone, helpless.


The hallway is suddenly alive again with kids bustling around trying to get to their lockers, not wanting to be late to their classes. To my shock, a muscly guy runs into me.


“I’m sorr-” He stops when he sees who it is. “Get out of my way freak.” He spits at me and walks away quickly. I feel my heart break again and tears threaten to spill. I hold them back though. I’m used to this feeling. The feeling of being unwanted.


I get my books out of my locker and make my way out of the rapidly emptying hallway. Just when I was about to turn into my classroom, I see Mary out of the corner of my eye, leading James away and out of the school. Probably to go shag by the football field or something. I shook my head in disgust and walked late into English, my last period for the day. Mr Austin glares at me but doesn’t say anything as I take my seat at the back, beside the only window. I settled down and take out my notebook and started to write a new poem in it. I wasn’t paying any attention to the lesson at all. Mr Austin’s voice bores me and I would much rather write then listen to him.


I want to be a journalist, or an author as my job. Every moment I had, I would have this notebook out with a pen in my hand. I found that writing helps with the pain just as much as a razor does.


Time slips away from me and before I know it, the bell is ringing, signalling the end of class. I pack up my things and just when I’m about to leave, I glance out the window and see a very suspicious Mary walking quickly across the football field. I wait for James to appear behind her but he never shows. I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my foot and realise I’d bumped into a desk by mistake. I frown and look back out of the window and to my surprise Mary was gone. How did she get across the field so quickly? I shake it off and walk briskly out of the classroom, ignoring the laughs and snickers I got from when I walked into the desk.


I went to my locker and shoved my books in, eager to get out of this hell hole and into my room where it would be just me and my razor. I hurried towards the exits, with my black hoodie up and over my head and my earphones in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the immature people around me. To my surprise, Mary was leaning against the wall beside the exit doors. I stopped contemplating my escape. I either walk past her, or go around to the back of the school and trek through the forest to get to my house. I decided on the quicker way and I walked fast with my head down towards the doors. I made it to the doors without making a fool of myself but just when I was about to put my hands out to push the doors open, my eyes met hers and in that one second it was like nothing had changed. I saw the Mary I once knew. The Mary I had had the privilege to call my best friend. Not the monster she had become. I saw a random flash of emotion cross her face, but it was gone in a second, replaced by the blank look she always held now. She snorted in disgust and I hid my face in shame and practically ran out of the school block.


Tears fell from my eyes as I walked home, Evanescence blaring from my ears.


If I try to touch her,

And I bleed,

I bleed,

And I breathe no more,

I breathe no more


Why did she have to ruin my life? Why did I have to be so stupid as to actually think she was my friend? I ran the rest of the way home and burst into my house, running up to my bedroom. I ignored the sounds of my mum shagging her new boyfriend and I got my razor out of my bathroom. I undressed and stepped into the shower, turning the hot water on. It was almost scalding hot, but I liked it like that. I stood under the shower head, tears still pooling down my face like streams. Finally I couldn’t take it much longer and I raised the razor against my wrist.




Blood poured immediately from the small wound but it wasn’t enough. I sliced again, relishing the pain I could feel.






With every drop of crimson blood I thought of Mary and how she’s ruined my life. It’s times like these, when I’m at my lowest, that I want to die. I want to disappear. Who would notice anyway? Nobody. In fact, people would be glad if I was gone. They tell me every day. And my mother? She was too stoned, and interested in her boyfriends to notice me. Nobody would care; nobody would miss me.


I dropped the razor onto the shower floor, too weak to do much more. When I had eventually gathered up some of the strength I had left, I got out of the shower and lied naked on my bed, still wet. I closed my eyes for a while before reaching feebly under my bed to get my diary out. I flipped it open to today’s date and got my pen.


Dear Diary…

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