Chapter One
Amber
The sticky white tiles are clinically cold against the side of my flushed face. I peel my cheek from the floor, groaning as I see the vibrant red smear of blood across them. My head throbs and I feel dizzy. There’s blood everywhere. It’s more than last time.
Much more.
My lungs rattle as I suck air into my mouth. It’s painful even to breathe, and a sharp pain in my upper abdomen brings me back down onto the floor as I try to lift myself up further. I let my cheek press back into the floor, the sickening copper smell of blood filling my nostrils.
I pause, assessing the damage. I can taste the blood in my mouth, and I can see it all over the tiles of the bathroom floor. I have a nosebleed as well, which is what’s causing the steady drip of crimson as I lay on the ground, utterly pathetic and helpless.
No one has sympathy for me here. I shouldn’t expect it, but I wasn’t expecting violence either. It came like a thief in the night, stealing the illusion of safety that had me agree to come to this school in the first place. Now I know that there isn’t a place for me here. I know they don’t want me.
I push a few strands of sweaty blonde hair from my face, gathering up my inner strength before making an attempt to crawl to my feet again. The pain in my abdomen isn’t severe enough to be a broken rib, but it’s bad enough to where I’ll be walking funny for the next few days. I have to be careful.
I place both of my shaking hands against the tiles, pushing myself up again. I hang my head, watching the blood drip to the floor and it rolls off my lips like drool. I spit it out of my mouth, curling my lips in disgust at the sight of the red bubbling saliva on the tiles.
With a firm push off the ground, I’m on all fours.
My arms tremble from the aftermath of adrenaline and the solid beating by a group of girls who I don’t even know. They came suddenly and didn’t wait to start throwing punches. For a moment in the brawl, I thought they were going to kill me. But here I am, on my hands and knees, just trying to get to my feet so I can leave this place and get cleaned up. I have class in thirty minutes.
I cough, testing the pain in my midsection. It isn’t too bad, so I get to my feet. My legs wobble, threatening to buckle and bring me back to the floor, but I don’t want to be there anymore. It’s disgusting and it smells like piss.
I prop myself up against a white sink hoping it won’t fall with me. The cracks that run up the sides are concerning, but it’s all I have to keep myself standing.
I don’t want to look in the mirror. I’ve fallen so hard and so fast from grace that it’s a wonder that I’m even alive. I wanted to kill myself when my parents split, and then again when my mother took me away from my father.
She said that he hit her.
He said she faked it.
I still don’t know what to believe.
I pinch my nose, tilting my head up to stop the nosebleed. The blood has already covered my shirt, but I have a hoodie in my locker that I can wear over it. I just don’t want to look like shit when I return to class. It’s exam day, and this school doesn’t give a single fuck if you miss it for legitimate reasons. An F is an F, and that’s what they’ll give you if you don’t show up.
I probably should go to the school nurse. Her name is Mrs. Latisha, and for some reason she’s the only person at this entire godforsaken school that’s been nice to me. Maybe it’s because she knows that I’m going to end up under her care sooner or later.
Well, it’s happening sooner, not later.
I manage to stop the blood flow from my nose for the time being, but my face is a complete mess. I don’t need to look at my reflection to know that, but I can still see it out of the corner of my eye. I’m afraid to look at what those girls did to me. I know it’s bad. I don’t want to know.
I can’t walk to the nurse’s office with a face full of blood though. I have to maintain some level of dignity. Blood in the water attracts sharks, and that’s the last thing I need when I’m too weak to swim away from their deadly rows of triangle teeth. I’m going to clean the blood off my face and get the fuck out of here.
I look down at the sink basin as I turn toward the mirror. I refuse to look at the woman who stands before me in the water-splattered crooked mirror. She used to have dignity and grace. Now, all she has is a bloody face and a wrinkled t-shirt. She used to be one of the elites. Now, she’s been cast from her throne into the mud.
I twist the knob for the warm water on the sink. The squeaks of its rusted metal echo through the empty bathroom like the cries of the damned. No water comes from the tap.
I sigh, placing my hand on the cold water knob and turning it. Almost immediately, a thick flow of murky water shoots into the basin, splattering onto my shirt and arms. I test the water with my hands, only to find it so cold that it numbs my fingers immediately. Considering how hot and painful my face is, that might actually feel good.
I cup my hands under the stream, letting water splash into them with vicious pressure. I lower my face toward the sink, splashing the ice-cold liquid onto my cheeks. It burns like needles in my skin, but I cup my hands under the water again, repeating the motion as the water in the sink turns diluted red with my blood.
Only once the water has turned back to its murky white, do I look up into the mirror to see my face. I’m shocked by the sight of it.
My left eye is swollen, already purple and blue underneath it. There’s a gash on my cheek that I couldn’t even feel before because of how much the rest of my body hurt. My lips are cut and swollen, and my blonde hair is in complete disarray.
I want to cry. My throat clenches tight, trying to hold it back. I’ve learned not to let the tears out in front of people, especially not my mother. She’d blame this on me, and then accuse me of playing the victim when I cry about it. I have nobody, and that’s what makes this so hard.
I run my fingers back through my hair, feeling the oil from my scalp beneath my fingernails. I took a shower this morning, but my body is in such a panicked state that I’ve been sweating since I arose from my small bed this morning. I’ll have to shower again when I get home.
I smooth the wrinkles from my damp t-shirt with my wet hands, trying to collect myself enough to walk out of the bathroom without drawing too much attention. I don’t have a lot of time before my exam, and I still need to swing by Nurse Latisha’s office to get a bag of ice and some bandages for the damage to my face.
I grip the edges of the sink, taking a deep breath before turning around to leave the bathroom. My first few steps are wobbly, and my knees feel like they’re already swollen to twice their normal size, but I’m able to walk out of the bathroom, bruised but not entirely broken.
At least, not yet.
Chapter Two
Flint
I flick the glowing end of a blunt onto the tattered track that makes its shameful loop around undersized soccer field. They really wasted no space in this dump of a high school. People running track often get hit by the soccer players’ poorly aimed kicks toward the goal. I wonder if the school should even have a soccer team at all, seeing as we’ve never won a single match against any other school in the district.
“Hey, Flint,” a hear a man’s voice call out from behind me. I turn my head to see my friend Blake running up with a small cardboard box in his hands.