Brianna
I cry for a good five minutes before it finally sinks in that I’m going to get the police called on me for not even doing anything if I don’t get a move on. Or I could turn around and jump. But for some stupid reason, I don’t. I get up and keep walking toward the school.
It’s not a long way their, and, though I might be a little late, I pass the principal’s office and tell him I’m here like I’m supposed to, and he says my mom hasn’t called yet. Maybe it was an empty threat.
But I am ten minutes early. I head to homeroom anyway.
I just hope Lincoln isn’t here yet. I’m the first one in, and I slink to my chair without looking my teacher in the eye. Because I know for a fact that probably the entire school… and certainly all of my teachers… know why I haven’t been here since Wednesday.
She looks up with a stern look on her face.
“Brianna, good,” she says. “I’m glad to see you here. I have the work you missed from all of your classes here.”
She crosses to me and sets a stack on my desk. “It’s due Wednesday.”
Fantastic.
I just nod without moving my eyes from the floor.
And she returns to the front of the room without another word, only a glance at my arms and a raised eyebrow. And it’s only now that I remember I’m exposed.
I swear under my breath at the realization, quickly tucking my arms under my desk. But it’s no use. I’m going to be showing the entire school my scars all day.
I melt as far down in my seat as I can. I swear, I wish I was invisible. I would love to trade problems with NF right now.
It’s another five minutes before other students start coming in. I just keep my gaze locked on the floor. I’m not here. Please, I’m not here.
The words are still repeating through my head when I feel someone stumble over my seat.
I look up sharply. How the heck can you miss a freaking desk?
And I see Lincoln, a forced-confused look on his face.
“Sorry,” he says mockingly. “I didn’t see you there. I was used to no one being there, since the girl who used to killed herself.”
I wince at the words and look downwards once more. What is he even trying to do?
“So, you’re new,”  he continues, an evil look on his face. “Nice to meet you, but I’d pick a different chair If I was you. That one’s probably cursed or something.”
“Just go away, Lincoln,” I whisper. I just can’t take this today.
“Hey, how do you know my name?” he asks, refusing to let the act go. “I don’t know yours. But I’m happy to see you here. It’s a real relief after that old girl. She was a total ******** loser. Don’t be like her.”
“Just stop,” I try. He ignores me.
“Don’t you all agree?” he asks, turning to the rest of the class. “Total relief that Bri’s gone, am I right?”
Brandon and a few others aren’t more than a step behind him.
“Oh, yeah,” Brandon agrees. “Honestly, I am so glad she killed herself. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
“****, yeah,” Trevor sneers. “We’re never gonna have to look at her ugly face again.”
I feel tears beginning to press at my eyes. Doesn’t my teacher care that this is going on in front of her face?
Tyla walks through the door as he says it, and her eyes snap from him to me, obviously trying to figure out what she missed and how she can contribute.
Trevor types something quick onto his phone, and Tyla’s chimes a moment later. She glances down at it and starts to smirk.
“The halls will have so much more room without her taking the whole things up,” she says as she puts her phone away. “It’ll make passing periods a whole lot easier to make.”
Lisa glances up from her desk in the row behind me. “And shows will look so much better without her ******* dancing. She sucked so bad.”
“Youth group, too,” Brandon adds. “It’ll be so nice not to have Jason having to dote on her all the time. I heard him telling Pastor Samuel how relieved he was that she’s gone.”
Our teacher looks up sharply, and I feel hope surge through me. Please.
“Everyone sit down,” she says, “and I’ll be right back so that we can get started.”
Not a word about what I know she heard them doing.
Everyone does sink into their seats, momentarily quiet as she leaves the room.
And Lincoln gets up again, striding to the front of the room with a smirk on his face.
“Alright, class, we have new student with us today,” he announces importantly, mimicking the classic movie line. He looks at me with an expression of pure evil.  “Would you stand up and introduce yourself to the class?”
I don’t move, squeezing my eyes shut against the tears.
I hear his footsteps approaching me, and open them again to find him leering over me.
“Well, if you’re not going to give us your name, I guess we’ll have to give you a nickname,” he gloats. “Hmm… what’s appropriate? Oh!” His face lights up in mock-revelation. “Of course.”
And he grabs my arm with a grip of iron, raising it above my head in triumph. I’m too terrified at his touch to move.
“We’ll call you Bloody!” Lincoln sneers, and waves to the class around us with his free hands. “Everyone, meet Bloody. Bloody, welcome to your new school.”
So many mocking comments come from everyone’s mouths that I can’t make them out individually. Except, somehow, each one still hurts.
Why didn’t I jump off that bridge?
“So, Bloody,” Lincoln continues once everyone has quieted down a little. “It is my honor to personally invite you to the funeral service that will take place this afternoon after school, celebrating the death…” He clears his throat apologetically. “Er, the life. Of course.”
Laughter ripples throughout the room.
“Of Brianna Kelly, who used to occupy that very spot.” He dabs at fake tears with his free hand. “Who tragically went home to be with the devil on Wednesday night, by her own hand.”
I wince at the words. I’m saved. I know I’m saved.
I hear footsteps in the hall, and, just like that, Lincoln drops my arm and slides back into his seat. Just like nothing happened, returned the moment the teacher opens the door. Not that she would have done anything about it anyway.
Why didn’t I jump off that bridge?