Crash Into My Arms

Words were spoken, but didn’t sink in. The sky outside was blue and clear, the weather overly hot, and I was stuck inside of a gloomy classroom, staring out the window. Once again I took the chance of a day like today when the sky was clear, to dream of a getaway I would never make. I was stuck in Newark forever, no chance in hell of escaping.

Which was why I preferred the dark, gloomy days, when the sky was nothing but a mass of grey clouds, reflecting upon the world the very sadness I felt every day at the fact that I was never going to amount to anything. Should the clouds darken just that little bit more; there may be some rain to hide the tears that fell as I walked home after each and every depressing day at school.

“Miseria!” snapped my teacher, making me snap out of my daze and look over at her. “How far along your worksheet are you?”
“I’ve done nothing.” I frowned.
“Miseria--” she started, but I cut her off.
“It’s a waste of time.” I mumbled.
My teacher opened her mouth to speak again, but gave up when the bell signaling the next lesson rang. “I’ll see you next lesson then, Miseria. In the meantime, try and do some of your questions for homework.”
“Mmm hmm.” I responded, though I didn’t intend on doing any homework.

I packed my things away, and grabbed my black trench coat, which had been hanging off the back of my chair, and walked out of the classroom. The stupid weather had ruined any chance of me being able to wear the coat today, as the clouds and cold breeze from this morning had cleared up.

I didn’t like that one bit, that coat was a sort of security blanket, when I wore it, I felt like no-one could touch me. My guess was that it might have stemmed from reading too much Skulduggery Pleasant, in which the main female protagonist; Stephanie Edgley a.k.a. Valkyrie Cain, had a coat specially tailored to act as a kind of armor, made of a special kind of material that was impenetrable.

“Emo!”
“Gothic!”
“Slut!”
“Faggot!”

The typical insults, from the good for nothing losers that roamed Newark High. They were nothing but vermin, maggots; I hated the lot of them. Had they just left me alone, and accepted the fact that I didn’t want to conform to their bleach blonde hair sporting, short short wearing, partying scene, then we might not have had such a conflict.

“Cantare!” Rollins snapped.
“Yes Miss?” I answered, turning on my heel to face her.
“Come here!”

I walked towards her. I hated Miss Rollins, she was practically the equivalent of all the snobby kids that attended this school and tormented me. She had the same bleached blonde hair, styled in a mass of curls, clad in a tight red sweater with a plunging V neck, and tight blue jeans. Her manicured nails rapped on the doorframe of her office, which was just down the hall from my Math classroom, as she waited for me.

“What’s this all about?” she asked as I approached, tugging at my stripy black and white arm warmers, which, unbeknownst to her, I had worn to hide my scars from the night before.
“They’re called arm warmers, Miss.”
“They’re not school uniform, and what about this?” she said, tugging at the black long sleeve I’d worn under my school shirt, my arm warmers stopped at my elbows and had a tendency to slide down, so I’d worn it to hold them up. “And black jeans.” she growled. “Have you no respect for the school uniform? And that trench coat you’re holding, you know you’re not allowed to wear it, we have school jumpers for a reason, I’ve told you a thousand times about that coat and you still refuse to listen.”
“I’ve told you, the school jumpers are too thin and don’t keep me warm, and I’ve grown out of all my school pants.”
“That’s no excuse, you should buy new ones.”
“My mum can’t afford it.”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“And you get Youth Allowance, correct?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Miss.” I sighed.
“Then there’s no excuse why you can’t buy some.”
I pouted and looked away.
“Maybe a detention ought to get it through your thick skull; I’ll see you next Wednesday.”
“Fine.” I said, and began walking away.
“You hear me, Miss Cantare?!” she snapped after me.
“Yeah, I hear ya.” I called back to her. “Stupid bitch.” I muttered under my breath.

School uniform at Newark was bullshit, every single day I was expected to wear the same old black blazer, black skirt, white socks, white shirt, and red tie. Any shirt other than white, or a close match to skin colour, was forbidden to be worn under my school shirt, not that I ever listened. I’d almost landed myself in detention a week earlier for wearing a skull print tie instead of my school tie.

“Stupid Emo slut.” A girl spat, pushing me into the wall as she passed.
“Can’t be a slut if I haven’t lost my virginity, unlike some.” I called after her.
“What’d you just say to me?” she snapped, whipping me around to face her.
“I said you’re the slut, not me.” I spat, right up in her face.

The next thing I knew was the searing pain as her palm collided with the side of my face, and then I was on the floor.

“Think about that next time you want to insult me, Emo.” She laughed, and walked away, her tiny short shorts that could quite easily pass for underwear halfway up her asshole.

That was it, the final straw. I wasn’t sticking around for the rest of the day, and I didn’t care that it was only one more lesson until school was over for the day, I wanted out. I pushed open the door and left the building, striding across the grass and ducking behind a tree each time I saw teachers scouting for waggers. Finally, I was through the gate, free from the torment of Newark High…