Damn... I miss my sketchbook. I think to myself while staring at my ceiling. I'm currently laying on my very uncomfortable bed in my disgustingly plain bedroom with absolutely nothing to do. I don't have a phone, I've read all the books I own, which isn't a lot, and I have no sketchbook. I'm so bored!
I can't believe I left my sketchbook in the library. That's so unlike me. I'm usually so organized and know where everything of mine is. It really isn't hard to keep track of your stuff when you don't have much to begin with. I just hope my sketchbook is still there, maybe someone took it to the Lost and Found? Or maybe someone found it and threw it away? Tore it up? Claimed it was theirs? So many negative possibilities...
Okay, I've decided I need to check the library early in the morning, before school starts, to see if my sketchbook is still there. That way I can avoid Jake, since he gets to school late every day, and avoid Trenton. Then, if it's not there, go to the office and look through the lost and found after school. Yeah, that's a good plan.
The sound of glass shattering downstairs brings me out of my thoughts. Jessica is usually drunk around the time I get home from school, but she was completely knocked out when I got home today. When she is out, she is out. Whatever that sound was, it was most likely Rick. Rick is a mechanic at the auto shop down the street. Sometimes he gets back here late, and sometimes I get really lucky, and he's gone all night. I think he's cheating on Jessica, maybe that's why Jessica gets so drunk?
I decide it's probably best to go downstairs and make sure everything's okay. If someone got hurt, the least I could do is help them. They may be terrible foster parents, but they did take me away from the group home. This place is luxury compared to the foster home I lived in for most of my life.
I jump up out of bed and make my way down the creaky steps. Once I get down to the first floor, I realize I probably should've stayed put. Rick is drunk. It's never pretty when Rick is drunk.
My initial thought of Jessica still being out is correct. She's completely out on the couch, the shattering of Rick's wine bottle that he threw at the fridge didn't even cause her to stir. Lucky...
Standing by the door is none other than the very drunk Rick himself. He stands about 6' foot tall, he's got some muscle but not much. His dirty blonde shaggy hair is in disarray and the leather jacket he always wears appears to have been thrown clumsily to the floor. His flushed face is pinched in rage and his angry gaze is pointed on me. Of course, it is.
"YOU!" He starts, pointing his crooked finger in my direction, "Why are all the windows open? You know I hate when the windows are open! I tell you every damn day to keep these windows closed, you ungrateful brat!"
Here we go... I think to myself as I watch Rick stomp his way angrily towards where I am standing at the bottom of the stairs. His drunken self always gets so mad over the pettiest of things. I mean, come on, the windows? It's not like I'm the one that opens them to begin with. Jessica just hates the smell of cigarette smoke so whenever she wants a smoke, instead of going outside on the porch, like a normal person, she just opens the windows and never closes them back.
"Hold on Rick. I didn't ope—"
"SHUT UP! I don't care what you have to say! We bring you into this house, and away from that group home, for you to end up being completely useless! You are so ungrateful! You show no respect where respect is due and ignore everything Jessica and I ask of you! I can't wait for you to be 18 so we can kick your ass out of this house!" He screams at me, cutting me off mid sentence. I don't know why I bother. I think to myself with a mental eye roll.
Rick stands right in front of my face, close enough that I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He raises his arm and brings it back, preparing to take a swing at me. I flinch but don't move, knowing if I dodge it, he'll only continue his little rant.
BAM! His fist collides with my mouth, sending me tumbling back and landing harshly on the stairs behind me. I quickly bring my hand up to my mouth, holding it there to ease the pain. I jump up from the stairs as quick as I can with the soreness that is currently coursing through my body and book it up the stairs.
"COME BACK HERE! I'm not done talking to you yet, you filthy rat! You need to learn your lesson! I swear, bringing you in MY home was the biggest mistake of my li--!" I cut him off with the slamming of my bedroom door. Leaning against the door, I slowly slide down until I'm sitting on the ground. I try to keep my breathing calm. I've already had one anxiety attack today I don't want to have another one already.
Rick should leave me alone now. He seems scary and gets very angry when he's drunk, but he usually doesn't bother chasing me up to my room.
The metallic taste in my mouth brings me out of my head, causing me to raise my hand and slowly run it over my lip. Shit, he busted my lip. I think to myself as I try to figure out what to tell Prue tomorrow. Maybe I can just avoid her as well, since I'm practically avoiding every person, I know already, what's one more to add to the list? Uuuuugh...
Getting up, I make my way over to the bed to lay down and try to get some rest. Shuffling under the covers and closing my eyes, the last thing on my mind is ocean eyes before I drift into a restless sleep.
~
Well, the library was a no go.
I go up to the librarian to ask if anyone had picked up a sketchbook from the secluded tables in the back, but she told me she hasn't heard anything. That leaves me with the Lost and Found. I don't know what I'm going to do if it isn't there. I really need that sketchbook.
Turning on my heel, I walk out of the library and start heading to first bell after saying a quick "Thanks anyway." Over my shoulder to the librarian. Walking down the stairs, I catch a glimpse of Trenton. Is he always here this early? I wonder to myself as I quickly back up the stairs, beginning my trek to the staircase at the other end of the building. It's still really early so I have plenty of time.
Once I safely make it to my Algebra class, I heave a sigh of relief. No one is here other than the teacher since it is so early, not that I'm complaining. I'm lucky to have no classes with Jake or Trenton.
I take my seat at the table in the back where I normally sit and set my bag on the table. Pulling out my notebooks, I decide to study until the bell signifying the start of class rings.
Once class starts, it goes by quickly. The Algebra teacher, Mr. Krane, is one of my favorite teachers. He makes this class interesting by joking and messing around. The rest of the school day goes by just as quick and this time when I eat in the library, Trenton is nowhere to be seen.
Walking out of my last class, I make my way towards the office to check the Lost and Found. Usually, Jake is gone at this time since he likes to ditch his last period of school.
I'm coming up on the office when suddenly, someone has my wrist in a tight hold, dragging me in the opposite direction. I look up to see none other than Jake. Damn... Guess he didn't ditch today. I think to myself as Jake roughly drags me down the hall.
Jake is a very big guy; he has huge biceps and is probably around 6'1. Pretty big compared to my scrawny 5'6. His bleach blonde hair falls just above his eyebrows, amber eyes set in a constant angry glare. I don't think I've ever seen this boy smile. It's a shame he's such an ass because, honestly, he isn't what anyone would consider an eye sore.
"You're coming with me, so shut your mouth and don't make a peep, you good for nothing lil' bitch." Ah yes, what a variety he has in his vocabulary. Note the sarcasm. Ugh...
Jake continues to roughly drag me through the halls, leading us to what appears to be the abandoned part of the high school, the part no one is ever in, since it's, you know, abandoned. What can I say, sarcasm is my personal coping mechanism?
Once we get to an empty hallway, I notice Jake's goons, they don't even deserve names at this point, leaning up against the wall. Goon 1 and Goon 2, that's what I like to call them.
Jake finally let go of his death grip on my wrist, only to shove me into a bunch of lockers lining the wall. I land hard on my bum with a groan, the back of my head hitting the door to one of the many lockers I was shoved into.
"Listen here you lil' shit! You're such a waste of space! No one wants you here, I'm sure we aren't the only ones! I don't know why you even bother." Jake scoffs as he stalks towards me with his goons in tow. Jake roughly grabs the collar of my sweatshirt, dragging me up with my back pressed into the same locker I slammed my head into.
"You're all alone now. Can't avoid us anymore, can you?" He spits at me, roughly slamming my body into the lockers again. I slide down the lockers until I'm sitting on the ground. Goon 1 and Goon 2 start punching and kicking my stomach and sides, avoiding my face just to be sure they don't get found out. I don't know why they bother, though. It's not like the principal cares anyway.
Finally, after what feels like hours of their hits and Jake's continuous string of hurtful comments, they leave me on the ground of this abandoned hallway in an empty school. I'm sure everyone has gone home by now. I really am all alone.
Just as I'm about to lose consciousness, I hear footsteps and a slew of curses. I slowly open my eyes, taking in the boy kneeled before me.
"Tr...Trenton?" I barely get out before the darkness consumes me.
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