Picking up the pieces with you

Jessica’s POV

I sat there, just staring out the window, like always. There was nothing else to do, unless I listened to my history teacher drone on and on about something I had absolutely no interest in. I think we’re doing the French Revolution but don’t hold me to it. No wonder I’m failing.

I looked round the school grounds and cringed at how crisp and green everything was. I mean seriously, who the hell wants to go to a school that looks like it was picked from a postcard. Everything was perfect and I hated it. Everything fitted perfectly, everything but me. If someone had told me a year ago that I would be sitting in history feeling like a total misfit, I would have laughed and run off to tell my friends. The jocks and cheerleaders. But that was last year, this was now.

I was no longer the cheerleading co-captain, nor was I dating the star quaterback. I was no longer ‘popular’ and I now hid in the shadows instead of parading in the light. This was my new life; I both hated and loved it. I had thrown myself into drama and art. My parents didn’t notice or care, they never had, it had always been about my little sister. But that wasn’t the worst; the worst was how I had found a way to stop all the emotions and stress getting too much for me. I had the scars, internal and external, to prove it. Each worse than the previous.

Iwas shaken out of my thoughts as the bell rang, signalling the end of history, finally! and the end of the day. I sighed not knowing if going home was a good or bad thing. I quickly packed up my books not bothering to copy down the homework. What was the point, I never did it? I shuffled head down to the door where a trail of students were seeping through. Just keep going. Somehow I knew today would be the day what I feared and dreaded would happen. Bingo!!!

“Miss White, if I could have a minute of your time,” Did I have a choice? I stopped and looked at my teacher Mr. Crink. He waited till the room was empty then shut the door. “Jessica, It has come to the attention of my colleagues and I that your grades have slipped dramatically in the last six months. It has also been noted that you are no longer the social butterfly you once were,” Social butterfly? Who the hell uses that term anymore?

“Is this meant to make me feel better and pour out my soul to you?” I cut him to the chase. I hate it when teachers try and avoid the situation and what they want.

“Not to me necessarily but to someone. We’re all very worried about you. You seem to have cut off contact from your friends and it is obvious that they are concerned. Especially Melissa,” Tears sprung to my eyes at the mention of my ex best friend. We used to be inseparable, wherever one went the other followed. We even looked alike and most thought we were sisters. Last year we ruled the school together, always laughing and messing around. This year she was the Queen Bee. I know my sudden change had shocked and hurt her the most but it would never make up for the pain and betrayal she had done to me.

“My personal life is no concern of yours, nor any of the other teachers,” My voice was cold and to the point.

“That as it may be, your academic life is. If your grades do not pick up we will have to fail you and then you’ll just have to repeat this form next year. Is that what you want?” I didn’t answer; I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “I didn’t think so. Now from what I’ve heard you’re doing well in art, art history and drama. For the rest of your subjects I suggest a tutor. Now if you would like me to find a suit-”

“No thank you Sir. I’ll find someone myself.” Like I wanted to get paired with a goody-good or worse a jock. “Now if that’s all may I go?”

“In a minute. There’s just one more thing.” I watched as his eyes darted nervously around the room. Whatever he had to say he knew I wasn’t going to like. But really what can be much worse than having no friends and failing. “ The other teachers and I have spoken and both your parent’s have been consulted. We all think that it would be for the best if,” Oh shit! Whatever it was, it was serious and seriously bad or my parent’s wouldn’t have agreed. “ You had a meeting with the school counsellor.”

The silence after those words left his mouth was thunderous. They wanted to me to do what? Did I not get a say? Of fucking course not. Mr. Crink just stood there waiting for my reaction. What an idiot. Like I was going to react for him. I just turned and walked out of the class. He didn’t deserve a reaction and I didn’t have the energy to give him one.

I walked slowly to my locker the words still echoing through my head. Who the fuck did they think they were? Why the fuck did I need a counsellor? I wasn’t half as dysfunctional as some of the kids at this school. But who gives a flying fuck what I think?

Once I was at my locker I threw all my books and grabbed out my art supplies. I had homework for basically every subject but what does it matter, I’m already failing. One night not doing my homework won’t make a difference.

I slammed my locker shut and banged my head against it. Hard. Why did my sister have to come barging into my room this morning? If she hadn’t I would have successfully repacked my blade. And my cigarettes. I slammed my head again and again. No one was left here except a few teachers and the janitor. No one would come down this way anyway and if they did, they already thought I off the rails.

As I stood there I thought about home. Family. Not that I had any. I had been deserted by my birth parents when I was a week old. Not even left at an orphanage. They had simply left me at a wharf. I mean what kind of people leaves a poor defenceless baby at a wharf? My adoptive parents had taken me in when I was three months old and there began my ‘happy, perfect’ life. We were rich and I got everything I wanted. Everything but love and attention. I doubt they would notice if I came home with tattoos all up my arms and my hair in a Mohawk.

I slammed my head again as all my emotions swirled round me. I needed this. This pain. It would numb me until I got home. One more wouldn’t hurt.

“Holy fuck!” Oh shit. I stopped and turned round to find three guys staring at me. One had shoulder length black hair, one had glasses and the other had a lip piercing.

“Are you okay?” The lip-piercing guy asked. Do I look okay dumbass? Did he not know who I was? I’m the ex cheerleader who everyone warns everyone to stay away from.

I answered my mouth to answer his stupid question but instead gasped for breath. And who could blame me, I was dizzy. That was when I felt something warm and metallic drip into the corner of my mouth. That’s when I realised my head felt like it was burning and the strangers were gaping at me.

I was meant to look them in the eye tell them I was fine and to fuck off. I was meant to get the fuck away from them. But like everything else in my life it didn’t happen the way I wanted. Instead my eyes closed on there on free will and my legs buckled. Then the black waves rolled and dragged me under.