"Good luck, kid. Because you're going to need it."

✘✘✘

Three days ago

"Watch out, loser!" a high-pitched voice screamed from behind, before she pushed me, making me fall to the floor. My performance was followed by laughter and insults, such as 'go back to Africa!', 'freak!' or 'slave!'. They always did this - bullied me because of my mixed skin tone and weird, yellow eyes.

I got up from the floor and picked up my stuff, hiding behind my long, black hair. I never let them see my emotions because I knew if I do that, this would be a lot more fun for them than it is already.

Just as it was this Wednesday, last Friday and Monday. Same faces, same insults.

Only this time, I felt a fit of burning anger growing in my stomach, almost like hunger or desire. But, to do what?

Their crowd consisted of three people - Sarah, the popular cheerleader with beautiful, long blonde hair and big blue eyes, which complimented her light skin tone. Louise, her identical twin sister, who always mirrored her actions, although she will never get out of the shadow Sarah casts on her by being the superior one. Ben, Sarah's boyfriend, and you guessed it right - quarterback of the football team and the hottest boy in the school.

I can easily say I despise them.

Before I could stop myself, I turned around to face Sarah, pushing her against blue lockers. "If you do that again, my fist will go on a date with your pretty face and you will be fucked," was all I managed to spit out, before Ben pulled me away, rushing to see if I have hurt his baby girl.

They started screaming at me and throwing threats like daggers, but besides that, they didn't do anything.

And pure threats don't scare me.

I turned away from them, visualizing Sarah's terrified facial expression as I walked through school halls, finally feeling good with something I did.

I stood up to her, I made her feel insecure and scared.

When I reached the exit door, everybody was already talking about what had happened. Of course they would, this school was like the nest of gossips.

I ignored the stares I received because I knew they would die to do the same thing I did. Although Sarah is popular, she's a bully, which automatically means she has a fan club that really wants to murder her.

My mind was racing like a wild horse and I wasn't able to bite back a smile.

I won this battle.

And I remember every single detail about it. How they pushed me and called me names, how I stood up, insecure and yet, burning with desire to do something. Their faces - I remember every single one of them.

And, the best of it all, I intimidated Sarah.

After walking a couple of minutes through a small park, I finally reached my home - a small, white house with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, one living room, a kitchen, and a garage.

I unlocked the door and got inside, closing them behind me. There was only one thing that could destroy my confidence right now and it was my step-sister. I prayed to God she wasn't home as I took off my shoes and went upstairs to my room.

When my mum died while giving birth to me, dad shortly afterward moved on and found himself a woman who already had a child, a spoiled brat.

I was happy I have never met my mother, because this way, she is the only thing I don't remember in my entire life.

Stacey, my step-sister, is something you would want to avoid at all costs. She is three years older than me and has major anger issues.

She always bullies me and I remember the exact period it all started - I was three years old and it was at my birthday party.

I was wearing a pink dress and had glitter all over my face while admiring the beautiful, chocolate cake decorated with red roses and made only for me.

I was so happy I was finally the center of attention. She, on the other hand, was so jealous that she pulled my hair and smashed me against the floor.

I am still, to this day, surprised I didn't get a concussion.

Dad and Tania, my step-mother, didn't witness the scene, so I will let you guess who they believed.

Definitely not a three-year-old girl.

And it was the same ever since. She would beat me and hurt me until she finally felt anger steaming out of her body. I was her literal punching bag. I also had to lie about where I got all of the bruises.

My dad claimed I was nothing but trouble, so he didn't even bother to ask me.

He thought I was lying and he loved Stacey, so whenever I tried to tell him what is actually happening, he would do the same Sarah, Ben and Louise did - insult me.

The actual problem was what my teachers said about it. I told them multiple lies, for example, how I'm going to boxing lessons and hence why my body was so bruised up.

The last thing I needed was people from Social Service monitoring my house for any sign of family abuse.

I slammed the door behind me, throwing my school bag on the floor.

I hate this time of the day because I can't do anything else, but sleep.

So, I did exactly that. I laid in my bed and closed my eyes, drifting into sleep with the picture of Sarah's fear in my mind.

Although I was asleep for a short time, which I know because I remember how long my dreams last, I instantly got up when I felt a razor blade brushing against my cheek, leaving me with a burning sensation.

"What the fuck?!" I mumbled, wiping off the crimson blood that wasn't going to stop flowing from my wound any time soon.

Stacey stood above me, a creepy smile spreading across her face.

I knew that smile perfectly, because I remember every time she had it, she would lose her shit.

She was playing with the razor blade between her fingers like it was a breadstick.

"I heard what happened in school, Brandy," she whispered, loud enough only for me to hear it.

Her eyes finally met mine and I couldn't let her intimidate me, not this time.

When I stood up to Sarah, I realized I'm strong enough to fight Stacey, too.

"So? What does that have to do with you slitting my cheek?" I asked her, trying to hide the annoyance from my voice.

In a matter of seconds, the blade was pressed against my neck as her psychopathic eyes pierced through mine, sending shivers down my spine.

If I breathe or move, she will slit my throat and kill me with only one movement.

"You can't talk to me like that," she squeezed out, her warm breath bouncing off my skin.

"Get the fuck away from-"

A kick in the jaw.

I winced in pain and looked up to meet her glare, tears of anger stinging my eyes.

Without hesitation, I rolled out of the bed to the opposite side to her, successfully landing on my feet.

"Oh, Brandy, you can't escape from me," she sang as she slowly approached me, forcing me into a corner.

Fuck, this is bad.

This is worse than it has ever been.

I looked around my room, trying to find something to protect myself with.

A cup of coffee from Sunday on my desk, which I didn't finish, four bouncy balls I kept throughout all of these years because I got them from my dad.

My eyes stopped searching when I looked at a purple pen with black ink.

She followed my gaze, instantly realizing what was I up to.

Fuck.

She jumped on me like a fucking spider without any hesitation, grabbing my neck and choking me.

If I don't pull myself out of her grip, I will lose consciousness in ten seconds. I started kicking her with legs as I coughed, the feeling of dizziness overpowering me, no matter what I do.

Five seconds.

I tilted my head forward as much as I could and bit her hand, making her squeal in pain. I quickly grabbed the pen from the desk before she could do anything again, adrenaline rushing through my veins.

I stabbed it into the side of her neck, blood instantly staining everything in its reach, including my face.

She looked at me in shock and tried to pull out the pen, as the crimson liquid poured out of her mouth. She fell on her knees, a loud thump echoing through the silent house, eventually falling on her back.

Blood stained my entire room - carpet, walls, bed, desk and our bodies.

I stood frozen in place, looking at her while she struggled to breathe, more blood pouring out of her.

If I don't help her right now, she will die.

I tried to break out of the trance I found myself in, but I simply couldn't.

I couldn't move.

In ten seconds, she will die from blood loss.

"I..." she gasped, trying to spit the words out. "...am proud."

My eyes shot wide open as I tried to process her words. She is proud? Of what, dying?

Suddenly, her body relaxed, looking like she's melting if we'd compare it to the previous state of cramps and agony.

The pen was still sticking out of her neck and her hazel eyes were looking up to the ceiling, every sign of life leaving her body.

Her chocolate hair was tangled in knots and falling on her face, now looking black from all blood that stained it.

I fell on the floor, with my back leaned against the wall behind me. I couldn't tear my eyes off of her lifeless body and one thing overpowered all of the thoughts in my head.

I don't feel anything.

✘✘✘

Present day

"That bitch killed my daughter! She deserves to rot in hell!" Tania's voice echoed through the courtroom, which made Judge shut her up.

With three loud hits, everything became quiet once again and Judge sighed, looking at me.

I didn't even flinch.

For the past three days, my dad disclaimed me from being his child, Tania physically attacked me twice and left me with multiple injuries, besides what her daughter already did to me, reporters have been in front of the Police Station I was interrogated in since I arrived and every newspaper did an article about me being a heartless murderer, threatening for the public.

And what about me? The only thing that surprised me was how I handled the murder and every hate mail I received.

"Brandy Walters will not go to jail, but in Dayton Juvenile Detention Center in Washington, until she legally becomes an adult, which will be in 1989.," The judge said, looking at my dad, who was sitting behind me, than her sympathetic eyes met mine, only for a few seconds.

She finally snapped head towards the people behind, covering up any emotion and replacing it with determination. "Court dismissed!"

Two police officers grabbed my handcuffed arms and dragged me out of the courtroom while my dad and Tania shot me death glares.

My father's green eyes will never be the same anymore and I will have to remember them like this forever.

That's when it all hit me - I'm going to spend two years in juvie with actual criminals.

Now, time started moving too quickly for me to comprehend.

I twisted my head behind, towards my dad, tears stinging my eyes. "Wait, let me go!" I shrieked, trying to escape their strong grip. "Dad, I'm sorry!" I broke down as more cops came rushing in to help conquer me.

My dad shook his head, breaking our eye contact as Tania shouted more insults at me. "No, please, let me go!" I begged, throwing myself around like a little child. "I can't go there! It was just self-defense!"

Soon enough, I felt a pinch in my left arm and everything became dark in a matter of seconds.

My body was jumping up and down while my head rested on something made of leather.

I couldn't open my eyes or process what was going on.

After three minutes and forty-five seconds, I managed to completely wake myself up.

I sat straight, realizing I am in the backseat of a police car, still handcuffed. My small body was covered in a thick, white material that created a jumpsuit.

I looked out of the window to be greeted by green trees and a clean, blue sky. In the distance was a tall, grey building with five floors of windows and a high, metal fence surrounding it. 

I looked at the cop driving the car, who instantly shot me a 'don't-you-dare-to-do-anything' look, although there were bars already separating us.

He had a shaved face, big brown eyes, short blond hair and I could see the muscles flexing underneath his uniform.

He was at least twenty five years old.

And he looked intimidating.

I pouted and leaned back in the seat, crossing arms on my chest.

He sighed, glancing at me from the rearview mirror.

"Good luck, kid. Because you're going to need it."

✘✘✘