Finding Your Voice

Chapter One

Walking down the halls of my school alone, whether it was during passing time or during class, was always nerve-wracking to me. It just seemed like no matter where I go, what I did or how invisible I tried to make myself look, someone was always watching me. There are times when the looks are followed by whispers and laughter. Those are the times I wish I could disappear. When I wish I could runaway and never have to turn around. Where I could go someplace that could make me forget about everything that tormented me. A place where I could feel beautiful and being naive was okay. A place where every stupid insecurity was forgotten. Somewhere I could be with my best friends again.

That place doesn't exist though. Instead, I live in this hell-hole where the strong go after the weak and defenseless, and the weak go after the defenseless who don’t stand a chance. It’s a place where everyday, if you aren't on the top, means your life will be a living hell. A place where one mistake can label you and your chances of ever being normal are gone. One mistake can label you as ‘the freak’, ‘the weirdo’, ‘the loser’, and many other terrible things. This place is my waking nightmare. It’s real alright. It’s called high school.

Not that all high schools are like this. In fact, there are plenty of great high schools out there where bullying is stopped almost as soon as it happens. I don’t go to that school though. I go to the one where bullying is a daily- hell, an hourly occurrence. And the main target? That’s right. Me.

Maybe I’m making it sound a lot worse than it is, but that’s exactly what it feels like. Not even the people I called my friends were there for me anymore. It’s like all of a sudden nobody cared about me. In some ways that’s good. Most of the time I could find a way to disappear. Sneak off and nobody would care. My clothes, actions, choices, emotions, fears and voice? They were free game to everyone else and they made damn sure to take advantage of it. Every. Single. Flipping. Day. If you don’t think that’s torture, then I don’t have a sliver of respect for you. Because it’s horrible waking up and not knowing what to do, what clothes to wear or even to show up at school. No, you can’t have any idea unless you've been in my shoes and been through exactly what I've been through.

Not that it was always like this. Actually I was on the other side. Mostly everyone used to be scared of me. The only people who could somehow keep me in line were my two best friends. America and Trevor Williams. They were the only ones who could stop me from doing something stupid. That was then though.

"Hey, Melody!" A voice cut through the laughter, silencing almost everyone immediately. I recognized the voice almost immediately. "Why don't you come talk to us? Meet the new kid?"

Austin Reed. One of the few people who still believed that I would talk to people again and reclaim my title as the 'Head Bitch In Charge'. I made my way over to him slowly. The weight of everyone's stares made my shoulders hunch a little. There was a time when this would never have bothered me. Today it did though. Austin hooked his arm around my neck as I stood next to him, staring at the ground.

"And this is Melody." He said to some preppy guy standing across from me. I peered up at him through my pale blonde hair.

"Hello," I signed quickly, not bothering to talk. I hadn't spoken a word to anyone other than my brothers in the bast eleven months, and rich boy wasn't about to change that. Austin explained and translated for me after his friends confused face.

"Mel, this is Alexander Knight. His dad is the owner of Knight Record Label. You know, that one that you used to..." I cut him off with a sharp look. My eyes fastened on rich boy. It was his fault this happened. None of this would've happened if it weren't for him and his stupid advertisement.

A few people gasped, and rich boy looked stunned as I gave him the universal 'fuck you' sign and walked away. For the first time in eleven months and twenty nine days, I didn't mind the stares and whispers that followed me down the hallways and out the front doors.
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Just an idea. Continue or Cut?