Semblance: the outward appearance or apparent form of something, especially when the reality is different.

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The cotton ball that was stuck to the inside of my elbow hassled my shirt like a wary problem. The blood test had provided a slight tingling sensation that lingered in my body, along with the abstract bump that protruded itself randomly.

I sighed, pulling my shirt sleeves upwards wasn't an option. Yesterday night was another disastrous attempt of trying to maintain the shreds of sanity I had left. I was pitiful. Instead of just ending this lamenting excuse of a life, I was holding on because of curiosity.

I wanted to see the results of that test.

I was like bipolar weather. Whilst my mind appeared doomed, my heart wearily remained as a reminder of courage. There were times when I'd dread that my life might end too soon, without my experiences being fulfilled. However, whenever I was alone I tended to overthink every tiny issue.

It was like cloud upon cloud, the problems were only highlighted because they were constantly on my mind. The scars on my wrists were probably the only thing I had in control right now.

I walked into my form room, running a hand through my messy ponytail as my form mentor obviously stated, "You're late."

"I had an appointment." I mumbled before taking my assigned seat in between two complete imbeciles.

I swear I'm not generalising, but why is it that the boys I'm surrounded by are constant idiots? Sure, there are hopefully classy guys out there somewhere, but for now I'm stuck being forced to overhear the perverted words of freshman-girl admirers.

"The girls in our year are so boring." The dumber of the two complained.

I rolled my eyes, holding in my tongue for some stupid reason. Rummaging around my backpack and finally pulling out my History book, I attempted to read up on the chapter we were studying.

The idea was a fail, once my eyes landed on the dreary words it was as if a sleeping spell had been summoned. I left the book open, propping my elbow on the table and leaning my head onto my hand.

"You're literally banging on about girls and there's one next to you." A voice snorted.

I felt a stare radiate on me but feigned continuing to sleep, "The only thing about her are the eyes."

Their words continued to jumble like piles of trash moving in a bag as I contemplated the truth behind it. So predictable. If anyone were to compliment me, it was the grey irises that were tinted with specks of hazel. I hated them.

The one thing I inherited from my coward of a father was exactly what they liked.

My mind drifted into a bittersweet slumber for what seemed like a few minutes. Tightly closed lids allowed the darkness to seep through again; the colour I was so accustomed to. It was dangerous to sleep, my mind was a toxic battlefield that could entwine the most dangerous sorts of nightmares.

When the bell pulled me out of a deep pit, I shook my head obliviously and shoved the History book back into my backpack. Elizabeth's Parliament could wait.

I hurried to get out of the room, keen to avoid the bubbly boy who sat on the opposite side of the room. Woody was a people person, everyday you would see him with at least a dozen different groups of friends. He was someone you could talk to for sure, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. That guy had a reputation for spreading and stirring every slandered word; like a pesky pixie.

Once he was out of sight, it was only a few more steps before the destination of a brick red door appeared in sight.

"Psst! Av!" A cheerful voice called out as I followed the sound to a bubble blonde, grinning ear to ear.

Sasha motioned to the space beside her as I walked in, gratefully drowning into the seat.

"We have a cover teacher?" Davina's voice murmured happily beside me.

"She's literally not even blinking an eye." Sasha raised an eyebrow at the tall teacher who was dully watching two boys mess around on their phones.

"Good, I need a study break." My best friend replied, opening her maroon backpack and bringing out a packet of Cola Bottles.

"My favourite!" I grinned and she passed me the packet to open.

I gratefully did so, following her offer and taking one before passing the food around.

"I got them for you as a cheering up, how are the cough suppressants working?" She replied, bringing out a notepad to doodle in.

I smiled at her urge to always draw, "They're doing their job thankfully, I just need the blood test results."

"You have been looking poorly for a long time you know," Sasha interrupted, feeling left out, "Can I do something to cure my boredom?"

"Hm?" I tilted my head and met her pleading brown eyes, "Should I be worried?"

"Can-"

"Hey Ava...cado! Share those bottles!" a male voice made me clench my fists instinctively.

"Does that jerk not know how to speak normally?" Dina glared at Davis, who had made his way to out table.

His lean figure hunched opposite me as he smirked, "Pass me a bottle please."

"First off," I frowned at him, "Don't ever call me that again. Secondly, hell no."

"Unless you have something to offer in return," Sasha suggested, "Got any gum?"

"Nah?" Davis shook his frizzy hair before directly staring into my eyes, "I might have something else for Ava here though."

"Ugh, we don't need to know," Davina sneered in disgust, "Ava has standards."

"So why is she friends with you then?" He shot back cheekily, before sliding back to his seat and narrowly avoiding my best friend's eruption.

"Son of a-" She began.

"Okay no," Sasha peered her head to the fiery girl, "Calm down and let me finish my sentence."

"Oh yeah?" I chewed on another bottle and purposefully sent Davis a triumphant glance.

"Can I do your makeup? I cleaned my brushes last night and I've already done mine for today," Her eyes pleaded, "Also, I've never done yours before and it would be interesting."

"You're right," Davina chuckled, "That should be interesting."

I flinched awkwardly before looking at her begging expression, "Fine. Nothing heavy though."

Davina and Sasha both high-fived, before the blonde rushed to pull out a bulky glittery bag.

Time passed on like it always did as I curiously watched her prime and prep my skin. It was almost a nice feeling, being pampered and presented specially. Cold liquid was brushed against my face skilfully, before being artistically blended out and layered with other products.

Sasha hummed to herself, obviously feeling zen in her own little bubble. I, on the hand, fidgeted nervously and began to think back to the disease the doctor had described.

I couldn't help but research into it. The fact that death was a possible risk due to struggle of breathing made me numb.

"Close your eyes." Sasha ordered, taking out a neutral coloured eyeshadow palette.

To my amusement, the girl stubbornly began to brush over my eyelids gently, the soft bristles of each tool building layers.

I insisted on doing my own mascara, the only skill I probably had was applying the substance without a mirror. There was something about wearing makeup that made me feel more confident. Though I didn't tend to go on the obvious side normally, the beauty of building a face was artistic. It was like wearing an intricate masterpiece of work.

"All right, what do you think Dina?" Sasha sighed contently as I opened my eyes and nimbly eyed the deep red colour she'd etched over my lips.

"Holy..." Davina peered at me analytically for a few minutes before smirking, "If I didn't know better, I'd assume you were the latest gossip."

"Ew," I muttered aloud before pulling out my phone from the pocket of my jacket.

I was silent for a minute as I looked back at the reflection.

She was beautiful.

Not like a plastic doll, but more like one of those attractive girls. Though most of them in my school were just typical airheads, they all looked the same as the girl on my phone.

It sort of made me feel like I fit in.

The bold, dark colour that was painted upon my lips made me feel...confident.

"Sasha, you're scarily amazing," I turned to the blonde in awe before pointing to my face, "Do I keep it this way?"

"Don't you dare rub your eyes," She flashed me a scolding look before grinning, "And thanks."

I smiled faintly, feeling slightly guilty. There were so many people like Sasha that I knew, we weren't a group of friends but we were acquaintances. They were the kind of people that made me get lost in my role of a normal student. They didn't really know me and the fact that my personality distorted around them made me question who I really was.

As I dazed out, my eyes suddenly met a playful pair that attempted to entice my attention. Sighing, I closed my eyes for a split second as the rough edges of my eyelashes brushed against my skin. Looking away from Davis's curious expression, I grumbled, "Why is that guy always in my way?"

"He's really not that bad," Sasha laughed, passing me another cola bottle, "Once you put aside that streak of immaturity he's good company. Plus, the guy has a good voice."

I shook my head in wonder, "Why are the skills dished out to the ones who deserve it least?"

~

"I'm excited about this one," Mum tied up the belt on her trench coat.

"Mhm," I sat on the last step of the staircase, waiting for her to shut the door and allow an absence to linger.

She was too endorsed in the excitement of another date to notice my failed facade, "Alright, you get some sleep. I'll probably be late, don't wait up for me. Love you honey!"

Fluffing her hair again, she sashayed through the door as it closed itself after her. The slam echoed through my ears and I groaned aloud to myself, "When the hell will she realise that I'm not a fucking pet?"

Exasperated, I stomped through the stairs that had delicately been cleaned by my own hands. My steps led me to my only safe haven, my tragic room.

The soft lilac colour was a combination of three souls who had lovingly painted each wall, the calm before the storm. As I dumped my body onto my bed hopelessly, my eyes once again gazed upwards at the plain plastered ceiling. He was meant to finish it up with a "small ladder, because I'm tall enough."

Instead, the man left. He cruelly left my ceiling bare so every night when I attempted to sleep, the blatant reminder of his non-existence mocked me.

My eyes peeled away, "I learnt how to play sports without you. I learnt how to fight for myself."

As I ripped off my jeans and replaced them with cotton pyjama bottoms, I murmured, "You should've warned me."

I dropped my jeans into a drawer, pulling off my jumper and dragging the sleeves off of me.

Silence embodied me as I lowered my vision to my pale arms, my fingers tore off the cotton ball that was stained with a little blob of blood. Tossing it into my bin, I ran my thumb down the masses of destructions on my arms. Dozens of lines were present, some were old and some were recent.

These fragments each depicted separate occasions, one's that I'd survived through. It was like a tally.

"Oh Ava, what are you doing?" I asked myself as a cold draft passed through the room like a frozen ghost.

I fumbled to put on a loose tank top, then untied my hair and gazed at my lifeless face. That makeup was long gone, as were the gazes that followed.

I pressed my back against the wall of my room, hugging my legs and attempting to warm my body like the last ember of a fire. I wish Mum would just recognise me more, she held her duty as a parent; but only partially.

Instead of always turning up to my appointments, I'd rather she sit and have a conversation with me. Dad was the one who knew how to be hearty, Mum was the workaholic. After his disappearing trick, she endorsed herself in work as a condolence.

I wanted somebody to roam these empty walls. Somebody aside from me.