Thunder

It was just like every other Monday morning for Abigail. She tried to stay in her room as long as time permitted before she had to leave for school, until her father came up there and found something to yell at her for, which usually resulted in her adding a few bruises to her “collection”.

The brunette knew better than go downstairs to eat, especially with her father home. He’d just look at her disgust and ask “Do you really need to eat that?” And when she would stare at him in disbelief for few seconds, he’d smirk at her and say “Put the food away, you fat slut” which would also result in Abigail excusing herself to the bathroom to dispose of the little food that she did eat.

As if on cue, Abigail heard the sound of the familiar, angry footsteps coming up the stairs towards her bedroom. She was an only child and her mother had died when Abigail was fifteen, so no one was there to defend her. Abigail liked to think that if her mother hadn’t lost the battle to cancer and were still alive, she’d defend her from the wrath of her father. Deep down, though, Abigail knew she deserved all of this. Her dad just wanted her to be perfect, but she couldn’t be perfect. She was too fat and ugly for her father. He deserved a better daughter.

The door swung open, stopping her train of thought. “What the fuck are you still doing in bed?” her father screamed from the doorway, causing Abigail to flinch a little.

She stared at him blankly. She knew better to respond. He always asked trick questions like that, but she caught on to his game with it.

Ambling over to his daughter’s bed, her father towered over her sitting figure. “Abigail, for fuck’s sake, all I ask is for you to do a few things for me, and you can’t even wake up for school? You’re wasting time just sitting here instead.”

Abigail didn’t have the heart to tell her father that he wasting even more time by yelling at her, so she kept quiet. “I’m so-“

“No, you’re fucking not,” her father screamed again, grabbing a handful of Abigail’s dark brown hair. “When I come back up here, you better be ready to catch the damn bus, got it?” he asked with her hair still in his hand.

She nodded slowly, for she didn’t know if she was supposed to answer or not.

Her father shoved the girl back out of his hand, and then stopped to look at her before walking out. Without giving it a second thought, he slapped her right across her face, leaving a bright red handprint on her right cheek. “That’s for wasting time.” He always made sure to just slap her before school so he didn’t leave any new bruises.

Abigail bit back the tears. She had become skilled at making sure they fell after her father left the room.

Before walking out of the bedroom, he gave his daughter a onceover before commenting, “Lose some fucking weight, you fat ass.”

With that, he slammed the door shut, and the tears started falling from Abigail’s eyes. She knew that if she didn’t get dressed and ready she’d miss the bus, her dad would hit her some more, she’d have to spend all day with him, and she wouldn’t be able to escape this Hell for a little while.

She sprung out of bed and went through her daily routine before school. She turned on the straightener in front of her vanity mirror, letting it heat up while she went to get dressed.

The seventeen year old fast walked to her closet to find a pair of skinny jeans, a pair of beat up old red Converse, and a black hoodie that was at least three sizes too big.

Pulling the jeans over her bony legs, she sighed. She was sure that her father only bought her skinny jeans on purpose. They only reminded her of how fat she was, which killed her on the inside.

Throwing off her pajama shirt, revealing just a white camisole, she pulled the hoodie over her head. Since she was going to be wearing the hoodie all day to make sure no one saw the bruises, cuts, or scars, she had to make sure she wouldn’t get too hot.

She shoved her feet into the sneakers before making her way back to the mirror. She had done her regular makeup; caked on cover-up to cover the bruises on her face, dark eye shadow and eyeliner to cover her tired eyes. When she read the tiny numbers on the straightener that read “400 degrees”, she smirked, getting an idea.

Running to the bathroom across the upstairs hallway, she dug through the bathroom drawer and pulled out the silver blade, running back to her room.

She placed the blade on the straightener, waiting for it to heat it up. Sighing, she thought, she had never burned before. This would be the first time.

Once she realized it was hot enough, she pulled up the right sleeve of her hoodie, and placed it on her wrist, feeling it seer into her skin.

“Fuck,” she muttered, throwing the blade down on the counter and pulling her sleeve back down.

Glancing at the clock next to her bed, it read 6:54am, meaning she had six minutes to get herself ready.

Straightening the rest of her hair quickly, turning off the straightener, she ran to grab her aqua blue Jansport backpack, grabbing her phone and shoving it in the pocket of her hoodie, she made her way down the stairs at exactly 6:58am – just in time.

Her father, who was eating four waffles, coated in butter and syrup, scoffed at her as she began walking out the door. “You’re wearing that in public? Really, Abigail? I raised you better than to go out to school looking like some kind of emo whore.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Dad…” she blurted, though, she really was sorry. She was sorry that she couldn’t fit his expectations, no matter how badly she wanted to. She then spotted the bus from down the road. “I, uh, have to go now…”

“Just get out of my fucking face,” he spat, rolling his cold, blue eyes.

Abigail flickered her ice blue irises to the floor, trying desperately to keep from crying while she made her way down the driveway to the bus.

As she walked through the aisle of the yellow, school bus, she could feel everyone’s eyes on her. They all thought she was a freak, she knew they did. Everyone thought that. She finally plopped down in the seat in the very back, fishing her purple iPod out of her bag, and plugging her earbuds in, turning it all the way up, hoping it would take her mind off of the pain.

A few minutes after she had gotten on, the bus lurched to a stop she didn’t recognize. Hopefully, whoever it was didn’t sit with her. She didn’t like socializing or people.

While she was thinking this, a tall, brown haired boy with brown eyes entered the bus, walking towards the back himself.

The boy noticed the small girl sitting by herself, and he also realized there were no other seats available.

Just Abigail’s luck, the mysterious boy sat down right next to her, with a sickeningly nice smile, as if waiting for her to take her buds out of her small ears.

She let out a sigh of defeat, when he kept staring at her, which made her feel even more insecure. “What do you want.”

“I, uh, I just…” the boy was taken aback for a few seconds by the girl’s ice cold manner. “I’m new in the neighborhood… and there was nowhere else to sit…so I sat, uh, here…”

“Do you have some kind of stuttering issue, or…?” Abigail stared back at the dark haired boy who seemed to be scared, and confused, out of his mind. Abigail had a strong hatred for men. All of them. She never had a good history with them. For example, her father, the very little variety of guys she had dated in the past who screwed her over, and the man who had taken away her innocence. It killed her inside to know that she still had no idea who did it. She only remembered vague things from the incident, but chose not to dwell on it, because when she did, it ended with her having a panic attack. Then her father hitting her and telling her to stop making up excuses for her whore ways.

“No…” the boy trailed off slowly, staring at the girl. “I just… I’ve been going to Dulaney High for a while, but I just moved in the neighborhood… I needed a seat and this one was empty, so…”

“Okay.”

“What’s your name?” the strange boy pressed, making Abigail feel slightly uncomfortable. Why was he being so nice to her?

“Abigail Speed,” the girl finally said, when it hit her. She knew who this boy was. He was Alex Gaskarth. He was the biggest player at Dulaney. He fucked girls then left them, not caring what happened to them afterwards. Now this? This made her extremely uncomfortable.

“I’m Alex Gaskarth,” Alex shot her a friendly grin. “Why haven’t I seen you around school before?” Alex couldn’t but take note of the girl’s awkward nature. She either didn’t want to be next to him, or, the worst situation, she had heard about his notorious reputation.

“I know who you are,” she spoke coldly, narrowing her eyes just a little. “And I don’t know. I tend to keep to myself a lot. I don’t like people.”

“So, it is what I thought…” Alex ran a hand through his already messy hair. “Look, I do have a reputation, but it’s honestly not as bad as you think,” he was telling the truth, kind of. A lot of people had started rumors that he got a bunch of girls pregnant and left them to move on to the next girl, which was a lie.

“Right, whatever,” she rolled her irises at the boy in front of her’s caramels.

Alex sighed. With the reputation he had earned himself, a lot of people looked down on him. Not his best friends, Jack, Rian, and Zack, of course, but a lot of people around the school didn’t think they could take him seriously.

Alex, though, couldn’t help but notice how the girl in front of him was honestly beautiful, but had practically every inch of skin covered. She wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, despite the sweltering weather, also dark skinny jeans, and it seemed as though she had makeup caked on her face. “Why are you wearing a black hoodie? It’s nearly 90 degrees outside,” he stated, as he she stared back at him, racking her mind for an excuse.

Fuck, she thought. He caught on fast. “I get cold easily,” she said lamely. It was the only thing her brain would let come out of her mouth.

“But it’s… burning up outside…” Alex said slowly, raising a bushy brow at her. What was up with her? Any person in Baltimore could tell you that it was miserably hot outside.

Abigail felt extremely lucky when right after Alex had asked her about the hoodie, the bus lurched to a stop at school. “Well, damn,” she said, snapping her fingers sarcastically. “I guess we can’t talk anymore, bye,” and with that, she lightly pushed herself through the crowd of students trying to get off the bus.

As Alex stood up, waiting for everyone to get off the bus so he could, as well, he couldn’t help but think about the girl he just met.

Something wasn’t right with the situation, he could just feel it.

Alex was determined to find out what it was, despite the feeling in his gut that told him it wouldn’t be pretty.