The Hope is Fading

It was a Monday morning. Two days after I tried to help my mother. Right now everything was peaceful, somewhat.

It was tense at the table when everyone was eating breakfast. My mother had multiple bruises all over her body. My bruise on my face was fading, barely noticeable.

My father was still asleep. Everyone moved around very quietly. No one wanted to wake him up. My sisters were eating a bowl of cereal while my mother was making my dad's breakfast, that he'll eat around one. I on the other hand was about to leave for school.

I always got to school early so I could beat the crowd. One so I wouldn't get caught up and shoved around and two I always got picked on.

I went to a predominately black school. And I was an Oreo: black and white. Some kids were accepting but others didn't care for me. They called me all types of names and called my mother a slut. It hurt, but I couldn't do much. I wasn't a fighter and I wasn't really witty. So I just sit back and try to ignore it all.

I quietly told my mother that I was heading out. She knew why I always left early. She tried to do something by telling the principal but he just passed it off as kids being, you know, kids.

I headed out of my building and onto the dangerous streets. I didn't live on the nicest street. Drug dealers ran this place. They said when kids could be out at night and who could be on their block. It wasn't too bad if you were like me: a loner with no friends.

I tightened my grip on my book bag when I saw two men walking behind me. They could be innocent but you never know in this part of town.

I walked quickly to my school and rushed into the building once I got there. I found my homeroom and sat in a seat in the back.

Fifteen minutes later kids started to arrive. And the one person who I always wished would be absent showed up. Her name was Kayla. She was the only person who went out of their way to tell me they hated me.

"You're in my seat." She said. "I'll move." I mumbled. I got up but she pushed me back down. "I don't want it now. You infected it." "Sorry," I said.

She turned to her friends. "Look she's scared." They laughed. "I'm not scared,I'm just being polite." Kayla rolled her eyes and found a seat far away from me.

Kayla was the prettiest girl in tenth grade. I'm pretty sure she gave it up to every guy she ever met though. I've known her since the second grade and she's hated me every since.

I've heard it's because of my hair. I get my hair from my mother. It was long and thin. Kayla had thick hair and always got weave in. One time in gym class I had accidentally pulled out a pony tail she added to her hair and she was really embarrassed. I apologized to her maybe hundred times but she never accepted it.

After that she embarrassed me many times. Tripping me while I was carrying my lunch tray, telling everyone I had a disease that was contagious. I guess that's how she's paying me back for the whole pony tail thing.

Who knows maybe this year she'll forgive me and forget about the whole thing.

I looked over to her and caught her eye. She gave me a dirty look. Or maybe she'll be even meaner this year.