Status: Hiatus
The Angel's Tears
Layla
Layla walked through the halls, eagerly scanning the mob for the tall, athletic senior. Jackson... She was never this crazy over guys. Especially not the sexy-senior-man-whore-types. But he seemed to almost deliberately brush her shoulder when they went to their seats in Algebra 2...
This is stupid. He has a new girlfriend every week and everyone knows he's a player. But he's just so damn gorgeous... Layla could feel her pulse quicken at the thought of his name. She closed her eyes shook her head violently, trying to erase her hormone-crazed thoughts.
But suddenly, Layla could see the shaggy blond hair making its way down the hall. He was walking to the front of the school towards the parking lot with all of his friends. But, just as he reached the exit, he paused and turned around scanning the ocean of students and saw Layla gazing at him with wide, adoring eyes. She quickly turned away, feeling a rush of scarlet in her cheeks.
"Hey." Layla looked up and drew in a sharp breath, struck speechless by the presence of Jackson's face only mere inches from her own.
"Umm...uh...h...h...hi Jackson." She stuttered. She took an awkward step back, and found herself peering up into his perfect ice-blue eyes...Snap out of it! Layla told herself. He probably needed the math assignment or something...yeah that was believable. Or maybe he came over to tell me to stop staring at him. Even more likely.
"You're Layla, right? Layla from math?" I nodded weakly as he continued.
"I was just wondering of maybe you want to do something on Friday...?" Jackson looked at me hopefully, waiting for my reply. But before I could say one word, I felt myself being pushed aside.
"Hi Jackson!" Oh God, it's Whitney. Head cheerleader, prom queen, debonair, rules-the-school Whitney. "I was wondering if you were busy on Friday? I know this amazing party is being thrown at Ryan's house that everyone was invited to and I was thinking we could go together..."
Layla quietly muttered, "I wasn't invited."
"Well of course you weren't!" Whitney exclaimed turning towards her, "Nobody wants the emo freak at the party." She spat the words with a venom only she could procure.
That did it. Nobody calls Layla an emo. Or a freak. Her heart began to beat furiously, this time out of hatred and not adoration. Then, a red tinge seemed to outline Layla's vision as she lunged at the cheerleader. Her fist connected with Whitney's nose and she heard a satisfying crack is it twisted and broke.
Whitney tumbled backwards onto the ground and started to wail. As in SCREAM her head off. All teachers within one hundred yards all came running into the hall to find Layla standing, fists clenched, sides heaving, over the battered girl. Suddenly, as though coming out of a trance, Layla shook her head and looked behind her.Jackson was staring at her, fear written clearly on his face.
Layla quickly bolted out of the school with tears streaming down her face. She couldn't bear the memory of what just happened. What almost happened. She could have been with Jackson. She could have been happy. For once.
Panting heavily and gasping for air through her sobs, Layla wrenched open her front door and ran onto her room, a new round of tears coming. She knew her father was going to be furious when he found out about this, and Layla didn't want anymore pain. She just wanted it to stop.
~*~*~*~
That night, when her father got the call from the principal saying she was suspended, he was more than furious. He was enraged and refused to hold back his blows against her.
He found her in her room, still crying, and pulled her violently by her leg, most likely breaking it in the process, and dragged her down the stairs into the living room. He released an incessant barrage of punches onto her face and torso and she was soon crying out in agony.
Then, he grabbed her around the neck and literally shook her senseless. Layla could only see black spots blotting out her vision and heard a deafening roar in her ears. Her father threw her to the ground. He left her there. She was unable to even get back up again until the following afternoon.
~*~*~*~
To: JWow@yahoo.com
From: SilentAngel@charter.net
Sent: Thurs 9/17/09 9:57 PM
Subject: RE: well this sucks
Dear Jonah,
I'm 17 years old and live in Brooklyn, New York. I've had many worse things happen to me.
Yesterday, the guy I liked asked me on a date (I say liked because he's not even worth it anymore), but then this super popular girl came over and called me an emo freak and invited him to a party. I punched her in the face and got suspended.
I get home. My dad finds out. He beat me halfway to hell. Pretty sure he broke my leg and three ribs. No, I wasn't driven to the hospital or anything. I had to splint my leg myself and borrow some crutches from my friend Beth. The only way I got to the library computer was by sneaking out and walking (sort of, 'cuz it's kind of hard to walk with crutches) here.
So I'm sorry they called you a pansy and you lost your game but there are worse fucking things that can happen to people.
Layla
P.S. I'm sorry. That was harsh. But I guess it's true.
This is stupid. He has a new girlfriend every week and everyone knows he's a player. But he's just so damn gorgeous... Layla could feel her pulse quicken at the thought of his name. She closed her eyes shook her head violently, trying to erase her hormone-crazed thoughts.
But suddenly, Layla could see the shaggy blond hair making its way down the hall. He was walking to the front of the school towards the parking lot with all of his friends. But, just as he reached the exit, he paused and turned around scanning the ocean of students and saw Layla gazing at him with wide, adoring eyes. She quickly turned away, feeling a rush of scarlet in her cheeks.
"Hey." Layla looked up and drew in a sharp breath, struck speechless by the presence of Jackson's face only mere inches from her own.
"Umm...uh...h...h...hi Jackson." She stuttered. She took an awkward step back, and found herself peering up into his perfect ice-blue eyes...Snap out of it! Layla told herself. He probably needed the math assignment or something...yeah that was believable. Or maybe he came over to tell me to stop staring at him. Even more likely.
"You're Layla, right? Layla from math?" I nodded weakly as he continued.
"I was just wondering of maybe you want to do something on Friday...?" Jackson looked at me hopefully, waiting for my reply. But before I could say one word, I felt myself being pushed aside.
"Hi Jackson!" Oh God, it's Whitney. Head cheerleader, prom queen, debonair, rules-the-school Whitney. "I was wondering if you were busy on Friday? I know this amazing party is being thrown at Ryan's house that everyone was invited to and I was thinking we could go together..."
Layla quietly muttered, "I wasn't invited."
"Well of course you weren't!" Whitney exclaimed turning towards her, "Nobody wants the emo freak at the party." She spat the words with a venom only she could procure.
That did it. Nobody calls Layla an emo. Or a freak. Her heart began to beat furiously, this time out of hatred and not adoration. Then, a red tinge seemed to outline Layla's vision as she lunged at the cheerleader. Her fist connected with Whitney's nose and she heard a satisfying crack is it twisted and broke.
Whitney tumbled backwards onto the ground and started to wail. As in SCREAM her head off. All teachers within one hundred yards all came running into the hall to find Layla standing, fists clenched, sides heaving, over the battered girl. Suddenly, as though coming out of a trance, Layla shook her head and looked behind her.Jackson was staring at her, fear written clearly on his face.
Layla quickly bolted out of the school with tears streaming down her face. She couldn't bear the memory of what just happened. What almost happened. She could have been with Jackson. She could have been happy. For once.
Panting heavily and gasping for air through her sobs, Layla wrenched open her front door and ran onto her room, a new round of tears coming. She knew her father was going to be furious when he found out about this, and Layla didn't want anymore pain. She just wanted it to stop.
~*~*~*~
That night, when her father got the call from the principal saying she was suspended, he was more than furious. He was enraged and refused to hold back his blows against her.
He found her in her room, still crying, and pulled her violently by her leg, most likely breaking it in the process, and dragged her down the stairs into the living room. He released an incessant barrage of punches onto her face and torso and she was soon crying out in agony.
Then, he grabbed her around the neck and literally shook her senseless. Layla could only see black spots blotting out her vision and heard a deafening roar in her ears. Her father threw her to the ground. He left her there. She was unable to even get back up again until the following afternoon.
~*~*~*~
To: JWow@yahoo.com
From: SilentAngel@charter.net
Sent: Thurs 9/17/09 9:57 PM
Subject: RE: well this sucks
Dear Jonah,
I'm 17 years old and live in Brooklyn, New York. I've had many worse things happen to me.
Yesterday, the guy I liked asked me on a date (I say liked because he's not even worth it anymore), but then this super popular girl came over and called me an emo freak and invited him to a party. I punched her in the face and got suspended.
I get home. My dad finds out. He beat me halfway to hell. Pretty sure he broke my leg and three ribs. No, I wasn't driven to the hospital or anything. I had to splint my leg myself and borrow some crutches from my friend Beth. The only way I got to the library computer was by sneaking out and walking (sort of, 'cuz it's kind of hard to walk with crutches) here.
So I'm sorry they called you a pansy and you lost your game but there are worse fucking things that can happen to people.
Layla
P.S. I'm sorry. That was harsh. But I guess it's true.
♠ ♠ ♠
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