Downfall to Darkness

Streams of light peaked through my dark curtains as they fluttered with the wind. I got up and closed my window, causing my curtains to sill. The soft sound of my footfalls on my carpet followed me into my bathroom, where I took a shower without a second thought. As the steaming hot water washed over the muscles of my back, making them relax, I sighed. By the time I had washed my hair, conditioned it, washed my body, and shaved, my whole body had a pink tint from the water that almost burnt me. I grabbed my fluffy, blood red, body towel and wrapped it around me securely.

Standing in front of the mirror, I ran my hand across the steam fogged surface. Stormy green eyes stared back at me. There was no trace of the light in my eyes that had one been there. Dark shadows under them contrasted with my pale completion. My dyed black hair stuck to my forehead and down to the top of my shoulders. My lips, which were once full with a soft rose color to them, had faded to a pale pink. The mirror was slowly being cleared of fog as the air cooled. My body still had curves, but not nearly what the once had been. I couldn't help but notice the way my bones were starting to stick out of my skin. My was face expressionless as I took all this in.

I turned away from the mirror and stepped into my room and too my closet. My gaze passed over the back of the walk in where there were a mixtures of purple, pinks, and blues, and I turned to my right. There I grabbed my undergarments and a pair of black pants and a red tank top. After putting all that on I pulled on my oversized hoodie that had belonged to my brother and my red vans. I ran the brush through my short hair.

I picked up keys and iPod off my nightstand and my back pack off the floor as I headed down stairs.

The silence in the air was sickening. Always alone. I decided to skip breakfast and went straight to my car and to school. I pulled in around the back. Not many people parked back here since it was the farthest away from 99% of the ending periods. Only I didn't mind taking the time to talk the five minutes over here. I avoid people. Glancing at the time I concluded there was seven minutes before class. Perfect. My car clicked with a beep as I locked it. Plugging in my iPod and pulling up my hood, I made my way into hell.

* * *

“The revolution was- Victoria, are you listening?” My teacher cut his monotone lecture off to ask me a that question as he glared at me. Not taking my eyes away from the window I was staring out of, watching the rain that had started not long after school its self, I answered, “No.” If a pencil dropped in this class, it would sound like an explosion. I glanced at my teacher to see the vain in his neck becoming more pronounced. He took one very slow, very deep, breath. “If you can't tell me the last sentence I said, word for word, then you are going to the office,” he paused, “again.” I very seriously considered not answering him, but came to the conclusion that, as much as I despise this place, There was only a month till graduation. No reason to get suspended that close to freedom. “ American success in the American Revolutionary War created a new nation, while British failure tore away a large part of their empire. And you said this because Sarah asked why we are talking about the American Revelation in a British History course.” I held full eye contact with him as I spoke. And after I finished I went back to staring out the window, ignoring his irritated look. “Well-” He began but the bell rang. I picked up my backpack, which I never unpacked, and walked past him.

Whispers filled the hallway as I walked down it. Fuck them. They didn't know me or what happened. I got to my locker and spun the combination angrily. Shoving my books to one side, I grabbed my art folder and headed to the one thing I liked about this whole goddamned place.

Art is the one thing that brings me comfort. Paints, pencils, the sweet sound of a brush running across a canvas, those things never lied to you. Those never betrayed you. Those never died, and if they did they could be replaced. Painting, drawing, they're real. Unlike the rest of the things in this world. People aren't real. People are fake. Just like the emotions they think they feel. There is no such thing as love. And Happiness is short lived, if found at all. All there is is the strokes of color that make a whole. A whole that's beautiful in its own way. That's whats real. That's whats life. Every choice we make, it's just another stroke. Just another detail to the whole.

I was already painting when the teacher walked in. Mr. Adams sat down in his desk and scanned the class, who were all at their canvases. We already knew what to do. We were working on our semester finals, the last big project of the year. We were to paint Anything we want, but it had to have meaning to us, something we could explain when we started presenting the last week of school. The best 10 works of art done out of all of his 6 classes were going to be displayed at the Department of Visual Arts Gala the last day of school. Where a number of universities would send representative to search for talent.

Mr. Adams, who concluded that we were all present, leaned back in his chair and began to read one of the countless novels he seemed to own. I pressed play on my iPod and got into my painting. My paintbrush with red at its tip, glided across my canvas. The motion was calming, and soon, nothing around me seemed to exist. It was just me and my one love.

All too soon the bell was ringing, signaling lunch. I sighed and put my paints up, before sicking my canvas out of the way where it wouldn't be harmed. Scooping up my backpack, I headed for the court. I hated going out there, because that’s where they hung out, but it was also the only place on campus that served half way decent food. Stealing my spine, I walked out of the building and onto the grass, toward the snack shack.

Howling filled the air. Not the “damn she's hot” howling, the “look at that dog” howling. “You know, we always knew you were a bitch, but now you look like one two,” I heard Daniel call to me. I ignored him and all of his friends.

His now-girlfriend sniffed, “Does anyone smell that?”

“Smell what babe?”

“Smells like skunk.”

“Hey Skunk!” Daniel called, “Try showering next time. You're stench is making me gag.”

They all made gagging noises.

I rolled my eyes, they're “insults” are lame. I have to admit the skunk think caught me by surprise the first time I heard it, but then when I use to have all black hair and a white stripe going through my bangs, I should have expected that. I ordered a plate of spaghetti, paid, and started to walk back toward school. That's when Daniel stepped in front of me. He lifted pushed his hand under my tray, pushing spaghetti right into my sweatshirt.

My brothers sweatshirt.

I looked down at it horrified. That's when Daniel started laughing. And that's when I blew my top.

I looked up and met his eyes with mine. He was the reason my life is as fucked up as it is. I felt the pent up anger I had inside me escape and with with crushing force I brought my now free fist, right into his nose. I heard a satisfying crunch. He stumbling back holding his nose that was now gushing blood. My hand throbbed a little but it was worth it. “YOU BITCH!” He yelled. I wasn't looking at him anymore, I was looking at my sweat shirt. Without a glance back I went to my car. I knew tomorrow I was going to be in trouble for not only punching him in the face, but leaving school. But I didn’t care, I needed to clean my sweat jacket.

I pulled into my house. If that's what you would even call it. It's a very big house. And I hated every inch of it. I pulled off my sweater and threw it in the wash with a bit of pretreatment it make sure the stains came out. Then I went up to my room and collapsed on my bed. Just as sleep was going to claim me my phone began to buzz in my pocket.

“Hello?”

“Where are you!?” Liz's voice rang through my phone crystal clear.

“Shouldn't you be in class?” I asked my best friend.

“I could say the same to you.”

“Daniel struck again. I had to come home and clean the damage.” I explained.

She groaned. Liz is the only one who knows the whole story of this past summer. She's the only person on this planet I actually trust. “I'm coming over.” Then the phone went dead.

I found myself smiling, for the first time today, as I set my phone down. I didn't have to worry about getting up to open the door, Liz has her own key.

10 minutes later my bedroom door was being open. “Tori,” Liz said as she walked in. “I want you to meet our new transfer student Skyler.” that's when I noticed the tall blond following her footsteps.