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Chapter Three

  The bell rings to signify the end of class and the start of a new period, lunch. Everyone dashes out of the classroom and I hurry to put my history book back in my bag. Everyone’s excited for lunch. Lunch means freedom, socialization, or not having to think for a good half hour. Of course since I don’t have friends, I can’t socialize, but I can sure take freedom to the extent.

  Before I get some lunch, I hurry to the bathroom and take a quick pee break. After I finish my business and wash my hands, I look up at the mirror. A skinny girl with a mousy brown ponytail looks back at me. Her blue eyes with silver flecks look up and down my outfit and has a look of disappointment. Freckles dot her nose and her nose crinkles the longer she looks at me. An old sweatshirt hangs off her figure and earbuds can be seen poking out of the top. She looks down and I don’t meet her gaze again. I finish washing my hands and put my earbuds back in where they belong.

  I hurry off the campus and to my car to get something to eat for lunch. I turn the key and my baby rumbles to life. I sigh a little, back out, and then drive out of the parking lot. I try to find the closest fast food joint so I can make it back to class on time. I drive past old shops down on Main Street, the store windows shining and showcasing whatever wares they’re selling. People walk in and out of stores, some carrying shopping bags and others just a smile. I drive down for a little bit until I see a semi-crowded drive-in and I turn into the lane to get some food. I don’t even look at the menu before I say my order. A spicy chicken sandwich and some kind of caffeinated drink, no fries. I pull up to the window to some blond university chick with pink highlights and a nose ring. “The total’s $7.82. Cash or credit?” I hand her my debit card and she turns inside the building “Your order will be right out.”

  I only have to wait a couple of minutes before she comes back and hands me a brown paper bag, it’s already warm from my sandwich. I grab my drink and my card and mutter a quick thanks. I pull out of the drive through and park in the lot by the fast food restaurant. I shift my car into park and pull out my chicken sandwich. I bite into the crunchy skin and I smile in delight. A burst of spice hits my mouth as I bite into the moist chicken. Cool fresh lettuce crunches as I bite down and the ranch add that little tanginess that makes the sandwich go a long way. But it wouldn’t be complete without the white bun on either side of the sandwich. I take a sip of my drink and am very happy. Whoever came up with the idea of adding caffeine to drinks is a genius and I owe my life to them.

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  I take more bites of my sandwich when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Confused, I pull it out and look at the message on my lock screen. “U aren’t wanted. Kill urself plz?” A gasp escapes my mouth and I toss my phone on the passenger seat. I raise the sandwich again to take a bite, but soon the sandwich also lost my attention. Things like this happens, but I still can’t believe that someone could do that, would want to do that. But apparently they do, to a girl who they believe is strange and doesn’t belong. I look at my scar and shudder. It’s all because of that, all this horrible stuff, that disfigurement is to blame.

  I have these night terrors close to every night, causing my wrist to burn and throb in pain. Every time it happens, I wake up close to tears and just cradling my wrist to try and make it stop. I’ve tried to tell my parents about it, but ever since Dad left, Mom hasn’t been the same. It’s been years, the pain and my mom needed a change. Luckily for her, she met Brent, my step-dad, got married, and a couple years later had my little sister Belle. Life has finally started to turn up for her, why spoil that with my problems? I’ve tried to tell people, but they just don’t believe me anymore. No one seems to care. We’ve tried to go to the doctor about it, but they told my mom that this is just a way to express myself, that I’m just jealous and I want to get some attention. The way she looked at the ground, disappointed and just weary of having to deal with something that apparently is an expression rather than something wrong… I never told her about it again. I couldn’t bear to see that look again.

  So I just suffer by myself, that’s why I sneak out, that’s why I try not to scream in pain when I wake up from these terrors. I don’t want to burden my mother with this. I can handle this myself. I’m a big girl, able to take care of myself. Nobody needs to know my pain because nobody cares. At least, that’s how it’s been for the last ten years. So I can make it, I’ll get over it eventually, hopefully.

  I wipe my eyes quickly, feeling the dampness on my cheeks from the silent tears that escaped. I turn to look at the clock and my heart drops, I’ve got four minutes to be in class. My eyes go wide and I shift my car into drive and I, safely, try to get out of the parking lot as fast as I can. Fate must have been laughing at and taunting me because it seemed like every car possible is on the street. I swear, I probably could have walked back faster than the traffic was going at this rate. My sweaty palms and racing heartbeat accompany me as I try to quickly maneuver through traffic. I look at the clock and I see the clock turn 1:30. I’m late. I groan loudly and put my head on the steering wheel, today is going pretty great, isn’t it?

  Somehow I make it back to school in a couple of minutes, but I hurry and run out of my car once I’ve parked. My chicken sandwich sits sadly in the passenger seat with two bites taken out of it. Along with the sandwich sits my happiness, alone and waiting for me to return.

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