Far From Happy
I sighed. Staring at the clock, I realized the effect was similar to that of a watched pot.
I mused up my black hair, hoping to make time faster. Yawning, I glanced across the room and did double take. In the front sat Anna Beau who was twirling her brown hair in her fingers and glancing towards me. When our eyes locked, I winked and grinned when she giggled loudly.
As my fourth period teacher dragged on, I felt myself slipping into a daze that made the room around me fade away. The colors of the students around me blurred as I sunk down in my seat. My fingers drummed lightly on the desk causing someone to shush me.
Muttering a quick sorry, I attempted to focus on Mr. Bugh but once again I every word he said seemed unable to stick. Sinking even lower in my seat, I started to remember. One of the few days in my life when I was beyond terrified.
At eight, I was naïve and oblivious. Even though my parents always fought, they stayed together for one simple reason. Me. My father was an acholic and was far from able to support my mother and me. So my mom worked two jobs to pay for my needs and his crazy ones.
The night it happened, I was in my room coloring because my father had asked me to leave. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. As I sat and colored, I could hear angry yells through the walls. Dropping my crayon, I got up and tiptoed to my bedroom door. Gripping the frame, I peeked my head out to see my father and my mother screaming at each other about something.
While my father was screaming, he finally caught sight of me. Mid-sentence with no doubt a six-pack in him, his face was red.
“Get back in there!” he roared, picking up one of the empty beer bottles on the floor. I pulled my head back into the room just in time to see the bottle crash against the end of the hall wall. I started hyperventilating while my mother yelled at my father. The hyperventilating got worse and I could hear myself making to much noise. I clamped my hand over my mouth, hoping to God my father hadn’t heard me.
She screamed but this time was different. A terrified scream that came from someone in trouble. I slowly let my hand fall from my mouth and I gripped the frame once more. Sticking my head out, I saw him.
My father stood over my mother, his hands shaking. Beneath him lay my mother, battered and covered in violent red blood. I let out a gasp and stared at her. She was dead and my father had done it. The knife lay next to my father’s feet, covered in her blood and his prints.
At the sound of my voice, my father looked up. Instead of the intense rage he had been full with less than five minutes ago, those eyes shone with guilt. But I didn’t care. He couldn’t feel guilty. Not after what he did.
“Hayden,” he whispered as if pleading me to forgive him. But I didn’t.
I turn and almost glided over to my window. Struggling to open it, I could hear his footsteps coming towards my door. Pushing harder, I opened it a notch. Panting, I pushed harder and got a decent size hole. Shoving myself through the opening, I fell out into the yard.
I heard his cry for me to come back, but I ran. I ran until I couldn’t breath, hoping to wake up from the nightmare I saw.
“Mr. Bennett, join us, please,” I was pulled roughly out of my daydream. My best friend Jimmy stood next to my desk as Mr. Bugh singled me out. My hands gripped my desk while my knuckles were a nasty shade of white. Quickly gathering my stuff, I followed Jimmy out of the already emptied classroom.
“You know Hayden, people are talking. Can you control these little moments you have?”
Jimmy asked, as we approached our lockers.
“Oh, so sorry. I’ll try to forget more, if it’ll suit everyone,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and starting off towards the cafeteria. Jimmy ran to keep up with me.
“Look, it doesn’t bother me. Just look around you. You have people staring,” he paused, giving me a chance to glance around. He was right, there were a few people looking at me as if I was below them. Sighing, I tuned back into Jimmy’s rambling, “Just because I don’t see you as some crazy freak doesn’t mean I don’t notice everyone else does. You can’t let it happen,”
Maybe he was right. High school is supposed to be fun; at least that’s what I was told. How could I do that with this breathing down my neck? I nodded and pushed open the lunchroom door.
“You’re right. I’ll work on it,” I declared as the two of us got into the lunch line. I glanced over at Jimmy, who seemed to be quiet.
“It was about him, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly. He looked at me and waited for my answer. I blinked and kept myself busy by grabbing a plate of the special. Biting my lip, I glanced at him.
“Yeah, it was,” I paused as we moved up the line towards the cashier. “If people around here knew why I act the way I do-“
“They’d probably think you were more insane than they thought,” Jimmy finished. I laughed harshly as we sat at our table. The next few minutes passed by with much eating and laughter. I smiled at all the jokes but my heart was far from with the laughter. I felt my mind floating off to another place, where laughter didn’t exist.
Her screamed echoed in my ears, causing the sound around me to be blocked out. I stopped eating, and closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I knew things might be okay.
It didn’t matter that everyone in school thought I was a freak. It didn’t matter that I had saw what I saw. No matter what, I couldn’t be hurt. Not by him, not by them and not by myself. The past is the past.
I mused up my black hair, hoping to make time faster. Yawning, I glanced across the room and did double take. In the front sat Anna Beau who was twirling her brown hair in her fingers and glancing towards me. When our eyes locked, I winked and grinned when she giggled loudly.
As my fourth period teacher dragged on, I felt myself slipping into a daze that made the room around me fade away. The colors of the students around me blurred as I sunk down in my seat. My fingers drummed lightly on the desk causing someone to shush me.
Muttering a quick sorry, I attempted to focus on Mr. Bugh but once again I every word he said seemed unable to stick. Sinking even lower in my seat, I started to remember. One of the few days in my life when I was beyond terrified.
At eight, I was naïve and oblivious. Even though my parents always fought, they stayed together for one simple reason. Me. My father was an acholic and was far from able to support my mother and me. So my mom worked two jobs to pay for my needs and his crazy ones.
The night it happened, I was in my room coloring because my father had asked me to leave. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. As I sat and colored, I could hear angry yells through the walls. Dropping my crayon, I got up and tiptoed to my bedroom door. Gripping the frame, I peeked my head out to see my father and my mother screaming at each other about something.
While my father was screaming, he finally caught sight of me. Mid-sentence with no doubt a six-pack in him, his face was red.
“Get back in there!” he roared, picking up one of the empty beer bottles on the floor. I pulled my head back into the room just in time to see the bottle crash against the end of the hall wall. I started hyperventilating while my mother yelled at my father. The hyperventilating got worse and I could hear myself making to much noise. I clamped my hand over my mouth, hoping to God my father hadn’t heard me.
She screamed but this time was different. A terrified scream that came from someone in trouble. I slowly let my hand fall from my mouth and I gripped the frame once more. Sticking my head out, I saw him.
My father stood over my mother, his hands shaking. Beneath him lay my mother, battered and covered in violent red blood. I let out a gasp and stared at her. She was dead and my father had done it. The knife lay next to my father’s feet, covered in her blood and his prints.
At the sound of my voice, my father looked up. Instead of the intense rage he had been full with less than five minutes ago, those eyes shone with guilt. But I didn’t care. He couldn’t feel guilty. Not after what he did.
“Hayden,” he whispered as if pleading me to forgive him. But I didn’t.
I turn and almost glided over to my window. Struggling to open it, I could hear his footsteps coming towards my door. Pushing harder, I opened it a notch. Panting, I pushed harder and got a decent size hole. Shoving myself through the opening, I fell out into the yard.
I heard his cry for me to come back, but I ran. I ran until I couldn’t breath, hoping to wake up from the nightmare I saw.
“Mr. Bennett, join us, please,” I was pulled roughly out of my daydream. My best friend Jimmy stood next to my desk as Mr. Bugh singled me out. My hands gripped my desk while my knuckles were a nasty shade of white. Quickly gathering my stuff, I followed Jimmy out of the already emptied classroom.
“You know Hayden, people are talking. Can you control these little moments you have?”
Jimmy asked, as we approached our lockers.
“Oh, so sorry. I’ll try to forget more, if it’ll suit everyone,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and starting off towards the cafeteria. Jimmy ran to keep up with me.
“Look, it doesn’t bother me. Just look around you. You have people staring,” he paused, giving me a chance to glance around. He was right, there were a few people looking at me as if I was below them. Sighing, I tuned back into Jimmy’s rambling, “Just because I don’t see you as some crazy freak doesn’t mean I don’t notice everyone else does. You can’t let it happen,”
Maybe he was right. High school is supposed to be fun; at least that’s what I was told. How could I do that with this breathing down my neck? I nodded and pushed open the lunchroom door.
“You’re right. I’ll work on it,” I declared as the two of us got into the lunch line. I glanced over at Jimmy, who seemed to be quiet.
“It was about him, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly. He looked at me and waited for my answer. I blinked and kept myself busy by grabbing a plate of the special. Biting my lip, I glanced at him.
“Yeah, it was,” I paused as we moved up the line towards the cashier. “If people around here knew why I act the way I do-“
“They’d probably think you were more insane than they thought,” Jimmy finished. I laughed harshly as we sat at our table. The next few minutes passed by with much eating and laughter. I smiled at all the jokes but my heart was far from with the laughter. I felt my mind floating off to another place, where laughter didn’t exist.
Her screamed echoed in my ears, causing the sound around me to be blocked out. I stopped eating, and closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I knew things might be okay.
It didn’t matter that everyone in school thought I was a freak. It didn’t matter that I had saw what I saw. No matter what, I couldn’t be hurt. Not by him, not by them and not by myself. The past is the past.