Untitled. (NaNoWriMo)

3 Nov

This is the first 1000 words of my novel. Please tell me what you think so far…

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“You’re so ugly. Why don’t you go and die! You ruin everything for us!”

Those words echoed inside Rina’s head as she stood in front of the metal sink in the girl’s bathroom, letting the water run over her new scars. She stared at the colour of the water slowly change from red to clear as the stinging pain disappeared as her blood started to clot. She was relieved that it healed up and wasn’t bleeding any-more, yet there was a part of her that wanted to continue to feel that numbing sensation that could only be felt when her skin was cut and the blood would slowly drip out. Those were the only times where she could stop feeling hurt, as the feeling took over her mind. She could close her eyes and just focus on the sting and forget about everything around her.

However, she needed to go home now… to go home and see the worried looks on her parents’ faces as they saw the dirt marks on her uniform and her hair hanging over her eyes. At least they didn’t hit my face today… she thought as she peered into one of the only spaces on the mirror that didn’t have graffiti on it.

She hated it. She hated looking in the mirror and seeing her grey eyes. She hated looking in the mirror and seeing her dry, cracked lips, her thick eyebrows and curly brown hair. She hated her pale skin when everyone else was tanned. She looked unhealthy and weak. She looked like the victim that she was.

The depression sunk in deeper as she stepped out of the bathroom and saw nobody around. As usual, she was the last student to leave. She saw the cleaner but as usual, he ignored her when she waved and like always, the rejection stung her and broke her heart just a little bit more.

The walk to her locker on the other side of the school was quiet and peaceful. She could smell the plants as she walked by them. They were the only ones that didn’t reject her greetings. It always seemed as if the leaves knew she was coming and they moved in an invisible wind, softly grazing against her palm. At least this was something that made her smile, not much else did. However, when she reached her locker, her smile dropped. There, on her locker were the words ‘bitch’, ‘ugly’, ‘freak’ and ‘dumb’, freshly written in a thick pink marker. At least it was a colour now, the older ones were written in black.

A tear escaped her eye and slowly slid down her face as she tried to keep it in. She was used to this… it happened all the time. She should stop feeling hurt over it… she told herself, but deep inside, she knew it was useless. It always hurt her no matter how many times it happened. It always pierced her heart whenever she had to collect books from her locker or when she had to put her bag or take her bag, depending on what time of day it was. It was horrible that one of the first things she saw whenever she went to school were those words all over the wooden door of her locker. It always caused her to want to cry and then she would get teased about that when her classmates saw her. She was just so tired and sick of it, but nobody would help her. Her teachers pretended it never happened and the cleaner had given up on cleaning her locker. The teachers used to ask him to clean it but awhile back, the cleaner told them that he didn’t want to anymore and it was useless because the next day it would happen again. Except for the times when they knew her parents were coming, they ignored it and she had to live with it.

As the pain started to overtake her, her fingers fumbled with the lock as another tear escaped her thickly lashed eyes. Opening her locker, she was glad that they hadn’t figured out her new combination and that none of her books were missing. Perhaps she should change to a key lock… but even then, they would pick her lock and steal her books just to torture her. They would go to any lengths to cause her pain. Once, she found a dead rat inside. The smell of decay lingered inside for days and that was the week she obtained permission to walk around with her bag. Unfortunately, her books were heavy and every day she had come home with a sore back. She would then just lie on bed, and not get much done at all. That week, her grades dropped from an A+ to a B+. Served her right they told her, it wasn’t fair to everyone else when she ruined their chances to get an A.

Her thin, bony fingers lingered on the spine of her biology book as she tried to remember if there was a test tomorrow. She hated trying to remember things, and thinking back. There was always a moment that she hated, that caused her pain. Having to think about it again was like pushing a shard of glass that she had taken out, right back into the healing wound on her heart.

She had no diary to look into and check because one of the girls had taken it from her today whilst the other pulled at her hair. Thick and ugly, they said as they poked fun at the curls she had inherited from her half French father, the curls that made her mother fall in love. They would’ve ripped out a chunk of it too, if she hadn’t decided to sacrifice her diary instead.

Better to be safe than sorry, as she tried to take it out. She was extra weak today as she hadn’t eaten lunch and her biology textbook was one of her heaviest ones. The walk home would be harder than usual today and she wasn’t looking forward to it one bit. Sighing, she wiped the tears off her cheek and let her bag thud against her back, causing her to nearly fall forwards. She glanced down at her dirty shoes and the dirt mark on her skirt and shuddered. She would have to make up another excuse for her parents today, one that didn’t involve her falling over. She had used it at least three times last week.

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It hasn’t been edited and the name is a pending one. If you have other suggestions, particular french names, please let me know.

If you can think of a title, do let me know 🙂

And if you’re wondering, some of this is based on my past experiences at my old high school, before I left and went to the one I just graduated from.

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