Save Me From the Dark Read Online Free Page B

Biting my lower lip, I grab my planner then grab my notebooks closing my locker and turn to leave.
    I head to the bathroom to see if there are any visible marks. Looking at my reflection only breaks me a little more. There is a lump already forming on the left side of my forehead, partly in the hairline. A little blood trickles down from the knot there. Reaching for some paper towels, I dab away the blood. Digging in my backpack, I pull out some Neosporin and a Band-Aid. Sadly, I carry a whole first aid kit in my book bag because accidents like this happen more often than I like them too. Dressing the cut, I begin to look at my hand. The purple hue that it is already taking on makes me wonder if they actually broke something. Testing my fingers and making a fist, though painful, I can tell nothing is broken.
    I may not be a doctor, but I have had more injuries than one person should ever endure, that I’m familiar with the signs. Walking into one of the stalls, I sit on the toilet and let the silent tears fall. Everything was getting to me more and more. Every day, I deal with their taunts, abuse, shunning, but lately – since I met AJ – it’s been hitting home more how alone I am. It never bothered me before now. Then again, I’ve never had someone that seems to genuinely care about me. It is because of that attention that I realize exactly how far I’ve fallen. There is no picking me back up. Why should I? Just to keep giving them a target to shoot?
    Pulling myself together, I walk out of the bathroom and start toward my first class. I’m babying my hand a little, but it’ll get better. They always do. I think what bothers me most about the abuse at school is that it doesn’t just come from the students. The teachers – some of the teachers – are the same way. Even the ones that don’t dish it out are just as guilty as the ones that do because no one does anything to stop it. One teacher even said to me that I’m taking focus off other kids. That is the reasoning behind not stopping it. I gave up hope a long time ago that someone would stop it all. That is like believing in the tooth fairy or winning the lottery.
    Mr. Angler has already began teaching when I walk into the room. He stops mid-sentence and stares at me as I walk to my seat on the far wall by the window.
    “Well, Ms. Careless, I thought we were breathing easier today. So, again, class, here is what assume means. It makes an ass out of yo u and me .” The class laughs and Mr. Angler smiles at his own joke.
    Keeping my head down, I pull out my notebook to write down notes. Half way through Sociology, I’m called to the office. Fear lances through me like a sharp knife to a blade of grass. Collecting my belongings, I head out of the class. As scared as I am for why I am being called to the office, I am also relieved to leave the class. Today everything is getting to me and I don’t like it.
    Walking into the office, I have to work hard to keep my feet moving. My father stands in the office with his hands in his pocket talking with the secretary. When the door clinks shut, he looks up at me. The disgust in his eyes is obvious before he plants on a smile he doesn’t mean and walks over to me.
    “How’s my girl today?”
    “Wh-what are you doing here?”
    “We’re going away for the week. They’re bringing in your work in a few minutes.”
    Forcing a smile on my face, “Great,” I say as light as I can manage through the terror that I know I’m about to face.
    Once my work is brought in, he guides me out of the office and out the front doors. When we are standing next to his car, he squeezes the back of my neck hard. Sucking in a breath, I wait for the threat that always follows the physical pain.
    “Get in your car, drive directly home, and go straight to your room. I’ll be there in an hour.”
    Pushing me forward, I walk to my car. With shaking hands, I unlock the door and climb in placing my bag and planner in the seat next to me. As