-
Am I Pretty Now?
Chapter#1 Introduction
She cried, she cried every night and every morning. Her body stiff and limp, her heart set ablaze, curled up in fetal position she let the tears fall from her blurred and puffy eyes making no motion to contain her sobs. Her limbs crooked, a bone saliently from her left leg. Bruises lined her face, neck and torso; scratches and bike marks adorned her arms. She was alone she was abandoned she was broken. Her breathing came out in low harsh gasp, as the clock ticked to midnight her heart beat began to slow then…as the minutes tick on her breathing was slowed to an almost sudden halt. She was beautifully beaten.
8 months prior…
An averaged sized girl stumbled down a flight of stairs stained with wine and droplets of an unidentified substance. Her walking was klutzy and bubbly, she was covered in a knee length vomit yellow dress with mitch-matched pockets near the waist. Her arms devoured by a grey patchy jacket made of cheap material and sewn poorly; her face masked in large amounts of foundation. Her light brown tresses tangled and matted; her smoky grey/blue eyes hollow and clouded with fresh tears. Lightly stepping on the aching floor boards she attempted to try her best at leaving without waking the only other occupant inside the small house. Her feet scrunched into a shoe size too small for her feet; taking one last glance behind she listened intensely until the sound of semi-loud snores filled her already red ears as she exit the drafty house.
Stepping into the chilly air of Lincoln, Montana the young woman tightly hugged herself desperately searching for her remaining body heat as she descended into the chilled world as snowflakes fell down upon her. As she marched down the sidewalk she wasn’t surprised by the extreme lack of life. The small town she inhabited only contained about one thousand, three hundred people; it was marked with gas stations and small shops for miles on end, and then was met with mountain ranges and endless amounts of trees.
She hobbled down the street until a familiar sight appeared before her, a knocked over lamp post-most likely cause reckless teenagers-she paused about two feet from the tipped lighting system. She just stood there, strands of hair plastered to her face thanks to the snow piling down upon her frame. Her face flush, her ears already resembling a color that of a rouge type, her teeth silently chattering, and her legs ready to buckle any second and send her to her knees cold and alone. Her heart beating against her chest continuously, waiting to burst; her voice lost amongst the clouds, her name and presence lost to the townsfolk, to the world she was just another person lost in the crowd. The sound of a car speeding down the road caught her attention, mindlessly she tilted her head ever so lightly and stared behind her blotch of brown hair at what appeared to be from a distance a blob of black but upon further inspection was in fact a navy-blue Honda motorcycle. The motorcycled zoomed past her, blowing her hair across face enabling her from seeing just who rode the loud machinery.
“Whoa,” she whispered to herself, as she blew strands of hair from her face and neck.
Then, as the retreating noise finally disappeared as the bike drifted out of sight, she found herself alone again. She dreadfully loathed that feeling of loneliness; it couldn’t be trusted at any second of any minute of any day. Something could spring up on her and she’d be hurt or gone in an instance. Lonesomeness was a cruel, awful thing…and yet through all fifteen years of her life she found herself suffering from it without a cure. Without any effort to stop it for there was no one to confine to.
She lowered her head, her breathes coming out like puffs of fog, her finger tips nearly frozen, her body sheltered in a small pile of snow upon her, she desperately wanted to cry out to the world, to hitch a ride with whom ever passed by her on that navy motorcycle, but at just the thought of what her mother would do…She had no free will, she has no right-according to her mother- to think her own free thoughts. And what mother says goes. She stayed quiet most of her life, only speaking when spoken to, people thought her innocent and frail, none knew how right they were…but everyone has a dark side, something they wish to keep hidden, something…dangerous.
“Hey Carrie did you get yesterdays biology homework?” a voice drifted into her ears, two sets of foots steps approaching her. She gently lifted her head to see two perky faces, she gently lowered her head to her chest as she wiped away a few snow specks near her eyes…only then did she realize the wet substance was wiping away her cover-up…sheer panic rushed through her. Her smoky eyes growing wide she had two decisions to make whichever she chose would decide her fate, literally. 1: rush home and apply more foundation and face the consequences and miss the bus, or 2: leave it and pray no one notices. She stared off in the distance where she came from, her house was about ten minutes away, and her bus was scheduled to arrive in seven minutes, she could make it if she ran, but…She stared down at her legs, foundation was slipping like rain drops off, it was both disgusting and slightly disturbing.
Was it really worth it? She didn’t know but she guessed it was a ‘no’. A glum expression lined her face, ‘Besides no one has noticed you since seventh grade…they aren’t bound to now.’ She told herself mentally until it stung, she was that worthless. Her decision was made; know to face the consequences that followed if any. She tightly embraced herself, rubbing her arms through the material of her coat, the two girls were now standing in front of her, and if they saw her they made no motion to acknowledge her presence.
“Did you hear about him?” the girl, Carrie said loudly, her voice high and annoying. She stared at the backs of the two girls bleach blonde set of heads, fading in and out of their absent-minded conversation.
“No, who?” the girl said, excitement drilling into her throat.
“A new guy, from Russia, Gretchen said she saw him yesterday speaking with Mr. Perry, she says he so…cute!” Carrie screeched the last part, giggling madly with her friend. She leaned in slightly, this was the most entertainment she’d seen all week and from the looks, it’d last the next few weeks, it was odd for a new kid to arrive at the small town especially one from another continent. And with this new boy, no one will notice if her foundation rubs off, it was a win, win situation she got to see girls throw themselves at a new boy while other’s-mainly their boyfriends- sat back and seethed, and no one would even notice if she blended in with the crowd or not.
“And…I hear he’s super rich!” Carrie squealed, her friend, Ashley, or Meghan or something…was giggling and squealing right alongside with her.
As the bus rounded the corner, appearing about a mile away she began to lose interest all that mattered was she’d be left alone for the rest of the day. Even on such rare occasions loneliness has its good parts and will come in handy…but rarely. The sound of the bus pudding down the road awoke the girls to their surroundings; both stopped simultaneously staring down where the busing was coming from before continuing back to their chat. As the bus came to a sudden stop, both girls-still indulged in their chat- hopped onto the bus. In her mind though, she was taking her time, taking one tiny step by step until the bus driver in his usual inpatient ways began to yell at her.
“C’mon Hannah, I know you can walk faster than that, maybe if you didn’t wear those short dresses of yours, your legs wouldn’t be frozen to the sidewalk!” Hannah inwardly flinched, rushing onto the yellow bus. As soon as she did, she was bombarded with loud and overly obnoxious voices yelling over one another.
Tip toeing down the aisle, until she made it a little less than halfway and dropped into an open seat. Exhausted it took Hannah about two minutes to realize she had picked the wrong seat, tapped onto the lower part of the window was a piece of soggy paper with the smudged words written into it ‘Broken!’ on the seat a puddle of water from melted snow lay beside her as the wide open window blew snowflakes onto her and the seat, leaving her freezing. Hannah desperately wanted to cry, to curl up into a little ball where no one would ever find her but as she felt the tears well against her eyes she found it harder to cry than to hold back her tears. She was running out of tears to shed.
The sound of the door automatically shutting was lost amongst the loud, almost riot like noise of the bubbly teens, she was the only one who never said a word for that she was an angel in the teachers and bus drivers eyes, in others…a waste of space, a waste of oxygen. The bus roared to life after being momentarily paused, driving forward it was like a rush, almost a high as the bus speed down the street or at least to her. Lunging forward from the sudden rocket shot forward her face collided with the seat, smashing her face, splashing water upon the sides of her legs from the puddle of water, and removing some of her makeup. As her face clung to the seat, glued by the foundation, her smoky eyes shot open as tears welled against her eyes.
(flash back)
“b***h, you filthy whore, you ruined me, you ruined me! I had everything until you plopped out, you worthless s**t!” a shrill and hollow voice hollered, echoing through the house, silent cries and the sound of a bottle smashing filled the house with life, it was like a bad horror movie…only real.
A woman with dirty, sandy blonde/brown hair crouched before a young woman flailed upon blood soaked carpet cowering before her, her leg leaking a rust color substance along her thigh down to her cafes. A broken beer bottle lay beside her, blood lining the edges of the broken bottle. “I’m sorry!” she cried, tears streaming down her extremely flushed face. Seconds later her cheek stung like a bee, as she quickly cupped her face where she had just been slapped, her creamy skin turning dangerously flush. Immense pain overwhelmed her as her mother drove her foot into her torso, crumbling into a heap of pain.
(end of flash back)
Hannah began to shake violently, tears spilling out of her smoky clouded eyes. It seemed time froze just for a moment, and it seemed to some few people that she mattered if only for a minute. About five or six teens paused their conversations, staring at the young woman, some lightly scoffing others looking around for an escape from the awkward situation they got themselves lost in. Rolling their eyes, turned back to whom they were previously speaking to and continued on, talking for a few brief seconds about the crybaby before mindlessly continuing. No one ever bothered to ask what was wrong, no one ever asked if she was alright, no one would come and make sure she was happy. No one; is the only word she truly understood the meaning to.
“What’s her problem?”
“Nothing, just ignore her.”
Their stinging harsh words, burned a hole into her heart, it’d do little damaged for what is the purpose for drilling a hole through an already torn and broken heart that has no desire or will to be repaired?
“Dude, someone tell that chick to quiet down already!”
“You do it; I ain’t going over there to that freak she’ll probably blow up in my face or something!”
Men, they’ll never know a women’s pain. Hannah’s cries continued on for the next ten minutes, many trying desperately to drown out the sounds of her loud weeping. As the bus slowly paused to a complete stop, her weeping had sufficed to a low sob. Ooze began to drip from her nostrils, only a few tears sprinkling out of the corners of her eyes as she clung to herself, pulling her knees to her chest. As the lone sound of the door screeching open and the piles of teenagers rushing out of the large yellow bus she suddenly felt very alone, until the bus was completely empty and only the sounds of the overweight bus driver stepping towards her filled her vacant ears with sound and life.
“C’mon, Hannah, time to get off,” His gruff voice had no affect on her.
He slowly reached out to her, his calloused hand touching her shoulder; she instantly flinched and scooted further away. He stared perplexed at her for moment. It almost appeared as if she was shivering because of him, afraid of the mere touch of a human. He softened somewhat and squatted before her, “Hannah, is there something wrong, do you want to speak with Ms. Opal?” she raised her head to him at the sound of the consoler’s name, she shook her head signally a no before slowly rising off the set.
Hannah’s walking was wobbly to say the least, as she scampered off the bus, her backpack straps threatening to fall from her shoulders as she rushed into the school, bumping into nearly every bystander, her hands covering her face, she didn’t want to be seen and no one wanted to see her. She skidded into the halls, until she collapsed to her knees and slid slightly, bruising her already sore legs, she uncovered her tear stained face and found herself sitting pitifully in front of her locker. She crawled a few inches over to it before collapsing against the cool metal and draining all the heat from her body warmed with embarrassment and shame. Hannah’s hand collided with the spindle, with an angelic touch she spun the dial this and that way, until the almost silent click awoke her. She tugged upward on the handle above the spindle and popped the locker door open; she reached absentmindedly inside the locker reaching for random items.
A foot collided with her leg, a sour voice filled her ears, “Move it freak,” she made no motion of leaving, and she pressed a hand to her chest and clutched her jacket closer to her skin. The foot kept kicking her in her shin until finally the owner of the voice became intensely impatient.
“I said move it!” the voice hollered as the owner grasped a huge amount of Hannah’s frizzy light brown hair in his hand and fiercely threw her backwards, he kicked her locker door closed.
She lay there, fresh tears begging to drip down her flush face as she slowly rose to her knees, she was like a helpless child lost in a candy store, only instead of sweet treats to feast on while looking for her lost parents she was tasting her bittersweet tears. She learned early on never to fight back, it only leads to pain, and so she sat there waiting for the man to be done collecting his books and belongings.
As soon as he stepped aside Hannah crawled her way back to her locker, ignoring the passing people. She smoothed down some of her messy hair and reopened her locker with tears lining her puffy eyes. “He’s here, he’s here!” many feminine voices squealed as they rushed past Hannah, ignoring all of them. To Hannah, it was easy to drown out their squeals and glees, after years of their hyperactive voices drilling into her ears she had turned their glees into a susurration tone. In this world gossip and women’s figures ruled all…in reality intelligence stampeded over all, too bad no one ever told the gossip police. Hannah quietly closed her locker, the hallway seemed completely empty to her, with the exception of few uninterested young females and males the hall was completely blank.
Hannah took deep breathes as she walked down the long hallway, she slumped her shoulders, and lowered her head ever so light so her hair would fall into place hiding her face and shoulders. Wobbling around the corner, she quickly found herself surrounded. A mob of people, consisting mostly of women, crowed the large hallway, preventing anything from passing. Hannah was caught. Fate is such a jerk; it would seem the only way to make it to her classes on time would be to push through the mob of girls. To that it seemed she’d have to rent a bulldozer…if only it was that easy.
Taking in a breath of air she slowly exhaled before walking forward to the edge of the mob. Gentle and smoothly as possible she pushed her way through, a few shoves back from time to time but after five minutes she had nearly made it to the eye of the storm. What happened next would be classified as fatality in a gamers world as she attempted to push past to giggling girls and make her way through, however…from the two girls point of view, Hannah was trying to push past them rudely and make her way to this ‘new boy’ so she may have him to herself. It’s quite tragic the way they think if you ponder about it for while. So with a ruthless shove the two girls sent Hannah to ground toppling over onto the many surrounding girl’s shoes.
Before she had a time to react, the girls began to move forward in a rush of giggles and corky cries; trampling over Hannah’s body, she was able to block some of trampling by shielding her body with her arms and hands, only ending with throbbing pain on the back of her hands and arms. As the herd began to clear, Hannah was left motionless sprawled across the tiles of the school grounds. Fresh bruises lined her body; she barely had to the strength to lift herself from the floor, surely not enough to make it down the hall to her first period class. But she prevailed as she limped and wobbled down the hall, clutching one of her arms where a woman’s heel had accidently drove into the side of her arm. She wanted to cry, practically needed to, but declined, there was no point to cry she should’ve seen it coming.
A bell chimed throughout the school alerting students that school had begun, another warning bell would ring two minutes later as Hannah entered her first period core class signaling that anyone outside their class would be tardy. Very unspoken-like she took a seat far in the back and set aside her backpack and drew from it a binder and two pencils. She soon realized, she had taken a seat directly beside a very unfamiliar character, and soon she began to feel the unwelcome stares from behind and forward, lifting her head she stared behind her to see a mob of young women glaring their eye sockets out at her. Hannah did a double take seeing the seething women from behind and what almost appeared to be scratch marks in the desk. Turning forward she was met with the cold aggressive glares of the young girls ahead, gulping; she sunk deeply into her seat.
“Class, boys and girls, we have a new student here to Lincoln High School,” The teacher, Mrs. Jonson declared as she began to write her name along the white board similar to how she did in the beginning of the school year.
“Christophe was it?” She broke in again.
“Yes,” a heavenly voice answered directly beside Hannah. By now, nearly all the girls in the room were melting against his voice as sweet as chocolate.
If possible, Hannah sunk further into her seat, this was exactly what she wanted to avoid and yet here she was she was guessing about half the female population for the core class was on her and the other on him. Hiding behind her mesh of brown hair she hugged herself close and pretended to be somewhere else, anywhere else, anywhere but near him…
“Would you like to give us an introduction about yourself Christophe?”
“I’d enjoy that very much,” a squeak from the chair as he slid out from it awoke the class as he stood tall and proud.
“My full name is Christophe Valentin from the Latin word valeo translating to ‘healthy’, my last name is very hard to spell in English language so I prefer using my mother’s maiden name Edmonds. I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors that I come from Russia,” He paused momentarily eying the crowed.
“…However that is only partly true, my father is half Russian while my mother is American and I did not move here from Russia, think a little northern.” Here he paused again, a smirk growing over his lips as he challenged the students.
“Canada?” someone blurted out, he merely chuckled at them mockingly.
“No farther, I come from Haines, Alaska, close though.”
Observing the crowd he was satisfied to see nearly all entranced in what he was saying. “I’ve occupied Haines as my home since I was two and are slightly saddened to bid it goodbye but happy to journey on a new adventure here in Montana and I wish to be getting to know all of you very soon.” He finished, he cool brown eyes scanning the group of students each one by one, until settling upon Hannah and smirking slightly as he saw her squirm and sink lower into her seat. As he began to descend back to his seat students erupted in claps as if he just delivered a worldwide speech.
“Thank you Mr. Edmonds, the students here at Lincoln and I are all looking forward to working with you.” Mrs. Jonson stated as she too began to clap.
Before sitting he glanced at the cowering girl next him, smirking down upon her, oh yes, he was going to enjoy his stay in Montana…especially if he could torment her. “Well hello there,” his voice like fire scorching her ears. The squeak of the wooden chair against the tile floors caused her to flinch as he took his seat. “Hi…” she mumbled to herself, scooting to the very edge of her chair, desperate for an escape. “Christophe Edmonds,” He stated, wrapped up in his little world as he offered her his pale hand. She merely turned her head the other way and whispered back to him gently; “I’ve heard…” silent giggles erupted from behind. Cracking his knuckles, he titled his head to the side giving the fellow students a death glare, instantly, the hysteria paused.
“Come, come, no time to dilly, shall we resume yesterday’s course, Christophe we are studying World War II, tell me how familiar are you with the global military conflict that involved most of the world’s nation,” before he could respond Mrs. Jonson piped up again, “If not, just take notes and copy some from Hannah’s.” as if on cue all heads turned directly at her, some glaring, some perplexed as if they forgotten she was in the same class as themselves.
Hannah struggled to keep her composer, if she had any, she felt a hand brush across her lap, and it sent a chill up her spine as she tightly shut her eyes. Willing herself to believe that maybe if she reopened them everyone would be gone. This bubble fantasy was popped as his voice tickled the hairs on her neck and face. “May I see the notes now Hannah?”
“…I-I s-suppose s-s-so.” Stuttering…it only made things worse. As Christophe gave her a genuine smile she felt herself heat up, oh how she wished to crawl into a ball and hide away from the world forever.
“Thank you,” His hands motioned near her chest area, she had forgotten she was still holding onto her binder and pencils, tucked near her chest as if for protection.
“May I see them now please?” his laughter made a frown spring to herself face as her darkened as the class began to giggle and laugh along with him over a simple comment that she herself didn’t understand the humor in.
“Alright, alright, class settle, Hannah please give Christophe your notes…” Mrs. Jonson ordered sternly.
Hannah began to blush apple red in embarrassment and slowly reached inside her binder’s depths in search for the historical notes to end the embarrassing scene that was just beginning to unfold. “Uh, Han-Han, you have a smug on your face.” Christophe stated, using a pet name rather sarcastically as he reached to rub off the smudged foundation concealing only who knows what beneath. Reacting in matter not assorted for school Hannah quickly swatted his hand away and yelled at the top of her lungs “Don’t touch me you stupid play-boy!” the whole class gasped in response as he sat there motionless with his hand in the air still. Slightly taken aback Hannah gasped herself at her own actions and rushed from her seat causing it to tip over dramatically as she whispered a silent “Excuse me.” As she sprinted from the room flushed with tears ready to spill out of her eyes any second.
Binder and pencils in hand she tore from the classroom falls and out to the hallway, wrapped with tears, pain, embarrassment, and guilt all forming together in one huge emotion as she skidded down the halls, dropping her binder, pencils, and backpack at once. Her hands clashed atop her head, covering her eyes as tears stained her dress and overcoat. All at once she felt herself falling, then her face made contact with the tile floors, causing an almost rash like color to form against her cheek as she slowly rose back up, one of her shoes torn from her foot from the fall as she embraced the chill of winter as she fell forward out the double doors of the school entrance collapsing outside.
Cold, alone, broken, embarrassed…and likely going to add hated for all eternity to the list as she lay in the entrance way sobbing uncontrollably. Part of her didn’t know why she was crying, the other half did and didn’t care it was time to release it all. She had no were to go…her mother doesn’t leave for work until ten A.M. and should she attempt to return home she will surely be caught and punished in the most unruly matter. She couldn’t face the world now, she couldn’t face the class. Hannah had nowhere to run, to hide, to curl up inside a little ball and cry until all sorrow left her soul.
Hannah knew, she may not be a genius, but it doesn’t take a genius to know she had to leave, gathering whatever strength remained she lifted herself from the damp ground as rain started to sprinkle down from the heavens soaking her already damp hair. Cradling what little strength inside her, Hannah limped away from the entrance; her breathing was more of a pant than anything as she rounded the corner of the school. The wet ground numbed her foot as the fresh doo and melted snowflakes soaked her sock, her body was frozen, her heart pounding against her chest like a drum, the overbearing pain of the silent scorn of her stomach from lack of nourish, her head as hot as fire. Her face as hot and beat red as dashes towards a nearby pine needle tree, her legs as hard as jelly…Her body begins to fall forward in a sudden haste and her eyes lost in a sea of darkness and depth as her body makes full on contact with hard ice cold ground.
Blood shot eyes shot open, dazed and confused Hannah lay deathly still against the greens that surrounded her flushed body, every part of her was red, some turning an almost indigo color, a ringing stung the inside of her ears as she slowly sat up. She touched a hand to her head as she attempts to rid herself of the dreadful, unpleasing ring. Her body was beginning to show signs of hypothermia, her head was unstable, she was weak, and she was all alone.
A loud ring and a stampede of footsteps later made her nearly jump out of her skin as she looked towards the sky and the eyed the corner she had come from to find students of all ages rushing out of the school towards the buses and parking lot, she soon realized she had slept until the very end of school. And no one bothered to come looking for her…to make sure she hadn’t skipped out on school or injured herself in some way…it just showed how alone she really was.
Hannah took in intake of air before slowly exhaling as she reached out for the bark of the nearby tree. Anything, to support her unsteady body; her nails digging into the old bark of the tree, her knees ready to buckle as she propped herself up, her only strength was left in her numb hands. Step by step, inch by inch, she guided herself away from the tree until the finger remained, with one slip the finger and her were left without the support and her body was ready to heave in…but as she stumbled each step forward they both knew she wasn’t going to give up…yet.
- by Caligari1920 |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/26/2008 |
- Skip
- Title: Am I Pretty Now?
- Artist: Caligari1920
- Description: As he emerged from behind the pine trees and stared down upon her small frame standing before him with an expression of shock and hatred spilled across her face as she dropped her blood soaked knife to the cool winter ground...
- Date: 10/26/2008
- Tags: childabuse death gore depression suicide
- Report Post
Comments (2 Comments)
- Ra1k1ra_Kakashi SnJ - 11/11/2008
- You might want to be careful with using your adjectives, but other than that, I loved it. ^-^ It was captivating.
- Report As Spam
- Caligari1920 - 10/26/2008
- Please forgive any minor errors, i wrote most of this with only one eye, i tried to find any errors and fixed them if there are any more please don't think it's just because of my horribly writing. thank you for reading.
- Report As Spam