A Letter Never Sent

This is for AlwaysApartOfMe's picture story contest! Enjoy!

For the picture- http://www.quibblo.com/user/AlwaysApartOfMe/photoalbum/1660560?page=3&per_page=9

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Time for school. Yay.

It's Monday again. Who likes Mondays? Teachers, maybe. But I think they all hate their students too much. Oh well.

I throw on some skinny jeans and a tank top. If I have to be happy about something, I suppose it would be that it is still warm enough to do so. I hate winter. It brings back all the worst memories.

Big earrings, bangles, mascara. No matter what I wear, it's better that the losers' outfits. Not that I see it that way. That's just how it works at my school. The populars stay popular. The losers stay losers. Unless something really big happens.

I brush my teeth, put my long, straight, hair in a braid. I think strawberry blonde hair is boring. All my friends love it.

My mother waits downstairs for me. She always makes us breakfast, and tucks us in, and babies us. I think it's her only way of staying sane. When we lost my dad, she just cracked. For a year she talked less than our cat. Now, she just wants Jenna and I to be happy, and grow up and get married. So then she can know we're okay. So she can just sit there, and have no responsibility.

I say hello to my mother, and sit down at the small glass table. Eggs. Every day we have eggs for breakfast. I like the routine. The sameness of it all. It's definitely better than everything being unexpected. The last thing my family needs is surprises.

I slip on my gray sandals, and walk out the door. I used to love nature, fresh air, birds chirping. But now I avoid being outside. It reminds me of dad.

I hate school. So much. I enjoy a total of three classes: Music, art, and drama. But music is by far my favorite. I cannot express how amazing I feel when I sing. Playing guitar isn't bad either, but I don't have one.

I arrive at school, and walk in, feeling about as happy as a criminal who is about to get executed. The moment I enter the building, I am surrounded by people.

"Saph! I just got a manicure!"

"Hey, Sapphire, you look awesome!"

"O. M. G. Saffy, Andrew is totes checking you out!"

I want to just crawl up in a ball and disappear. But, unfortunately, I can't. So I figure the only thing to do is just suck it up and move on with my life. High school won't last forever, even if it feels like it.

"Whoa, girls, I need a little personal space," I say, flashing them what my Dad used to call Sapphire's Gazillion Dollar smile.

They move like two inches. I hate my life.

I open my locker. My covered in giltz, totally girly, pink and purple locker. Ugh. There is so much "cool" crap in there that my books and bag hardly fit. Those are pretty much the only thing in my locker I actually bought. The rest were all gifts, people trying to up their social status.

I re-apply my make up, everyone crowding around to see the exact technique I use to smudge my eye liner. I'm so squished that I can hardly do it though. Being Miss Popular is not as fun as it might seem.

The warning bell rings. "Oh, shoot!" I exclaim, "We've only got five minutes! Gotta go guys! See ya!"

Everyone scatters, and I can breath again. None of my "followers" have English with me, thank God. I'm right on time when I get to Mr. Martin's room.

"Ah, Miss Morrissey. Come in, come in."

Mr. Martin's a little weird. He has a name for the first three days of the week (Greek and Latin day, Pun day, and Grammar-time). He makes you come after school for any imperfection, gives everyone nicknames, cracks jokes in class, shows us videos on youtube, and enjoys walking around the classroom without shoes on.

I sit down. Time for English.

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