"Everybody has a Chapter they don't read out loud."

-anonymous

***

I stare at him. Why is he talking to me, doesn't he know it's social suicide. He's new, so he obviously doesn't know. I should tell him, even if I don't warn him, he'll find out sooner or later. No one talks to me, Kelsey James, unless you're calling me names or demanding I do your homework. That's just how it is.

"Why are you talking to me?" I inquire with a blank expression, watching him closely.

"Why wouldn't I?" he frowns, cocking his head to the side, making his hair flop over.

"You don't understand what you're doing," I wince, moving as far away from him as possible.

"What am I doing?" he inches closer and my breathing starts to speed up.

I don't like being cornered, nothing good comes from being cornered. He must see the obvious fear and discomfort in my eyes, because he backs up a bit, giving me space to breath again.

"Destroying your reputation," I murmur softly as I drop my eyes to my clenched fists.

"I'm only talking to you," he say, confusion buttering his voice.

"Exactly," I exhale exasperatedly.

I glance around the classroom, the teacher is late, as always. Most of the students are chatting amongst themselves, but others are beginning to notice the new kid talking to the outcast. They are throwing odd looks our way and glaring with clear hatred at me, probably wishing I didn't exist.

"Look around," I say, stopping whatever reply he had prepared.

He frowns at me, but does as I say and turns to look around the class. His frown deepens as he notices the stares he's getting and the glares being sent my way. He turns back to me, about to speak when someone interrupts him, again.

"Hey, whore!" one of Kestrel's friends calls out, "Already sinking your claws into your new prey. You going to shag him in the bathroom or what?"

Tears spring to my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall as memories flood my mind. Bringing pain and regret with them, along with self-loathing.

"Hey, you, new kid!" another one shouts, "You might want to move. You wouldn't want to catch an STD would you?"

The group of boys erupt into fits of laughter, high-fiving each other and hooting. The rest of the class joins them, snickering and shooting me looks of disgust and hatred. Axel looks at me in shock, but complies to what the boy suggested and gets up, moving to a seat at the front.

My face crumples in embarrassment, flushing deep red with shame as I sink lower in my seat. When the teacher finally arrives, I'm about ready to run out the class crying, but I remain in my seat and the class settles. The rest of the lesson drags, at a painful pace. I just can't wait to get out of here.

***

I bite into my apple, the sour flavour bursting onto my taste buds, some of the juice running down my chin. I'm currently sitting outside on lunch break, leaning against a tree trunk. I'm not welcome in the cafeteria, if I try go in there, I'll only come out broken and bruised.

I learnt that the hard way.

I doodle in my journal with my favorite fountain pen, drawing pretty patterns in the margins around the page. I hum the lyrics to my song under my breath, quietly. I love them, because they hold the truth to what my heart weeps. To be accepted and the past forgotten. To be happy, free of pain and bullying. Though that'll never happen.

No one understands, because no one has taken the time to ask my side of the story, they only believe what they were told, not the truth. So because of that, I have to suffer, not only here at school, but at 'home' as well.

I can never catch a break.

The bell rings, signalling the end of lunch and the start of the next lesson. I sigh and get up, shoving my things away and throwing my apple core in the dustbin on my way past. I dust myself off and make my way to my next class. Art with Miss Gunman.

The lesson fortunately goes quickly, along with the rest of the day and soon the bell is ringing for the end of the day. I quickly pack up all my stuff and run out the classroom and into the mass of students out in the hallway. Knowing my step-mother is coming home late today, I decide to treat myself and head towards the music room.

I have a piano at home, but my step-mother keeps it under lock and key, only allowing me to play when she's in a good mood. That's not very often. So I make do with using the school facilities, I even have my own key to the room, that's how often I use it.

I come to the music room door and I quickly fish through my bag for the keys. Finding them, I unlock the door and slip in, closing it firmly behind me, I reach for the light switch. I flick the light on, instantly bathing the room in its glow.

Different levels hold different instruments, but the one I'm looking for is in the front, near the conductors stand. It's glossy black surface calling to me, in a way only a musician can understand. It's many keys yearning to be pressed into notes of music.

The Grand Piano.

I rush towards it, dropping my bag by the door and take a seat on the bench, running my fingers across the familiar keys. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, bringing forth a favourite song of mine to the forefront of my mind. I put my fingers into position and keep my eyes closed as I begin to play Fight Song by Rachel Platten.

"Like a small boat,
On the ocean.
Sending big waves,
Into Motion.
Like every single word,
Can make a heart open.
I might only have one match,
But I can make an explosion.

And all those things I didn't say,
Were wrecking balls inside my brain!
I will scream it out tonight!
Can you hear my voice,
This time!

This is my fight song!
Take back my life song!
Prove I'm alright song!
My powers turned on!
Starting right now,
I'll be strong!
I'll play my fight song!
And I don't really care if nobody else believes!
Cause I still got a lot of fight left in me!

I'm loosing friends and I'm chasing sleep,
Everybody's worried bout me.
I'm in too deep,
I say I'm in too deep.
It's been two years,
And I miss my home.
There's a fire burning in my bones.
I still believe,
Yeah I still believe.

And all those things I didn't say,
We're wrecking balls inside my brain!
I'm screaming out tonight!
Can you hear my voice,
This time!

This is my fight song!
Take back my life song!
Prove I'm alright song!
My powers turned on!
Starting right now,
I'll be strong!
I'll play my fight song!
And I don't really care if no one else believes!
Because I still got a lot of fight left in me!
A lot of fight left in me!

Like a small boat,
On the ocean.
Sending big waves,
Into motion.
Like every single word,
Can make a heart open.
I might only have one match,
But I can make an explosion.

This is my fight song!
Take back my life song!
Prove I'm alright song!
My powers turned on!
Starting right now,
I'll be strong!
I'll play my fight song!
And I don't really care if no one else believes!
Because I've still got a lot of fight left in me!

No I've still got a lot of fight left in me..."

I trail off, ending the song. I feel lighter as if a heavy weight has been lifted from me. I smile to myself as my fingers come to a halt on the white keys and turn to get up, but I freeze as I see who stands there.

Axel Storm.

The new Bad Boy, has just seen me sing and play the piano. My eyes widen and I begin to tremble. He stands there frozen, his brown eyes wide and his jaw slack as he stares at me. He steps closer and I immediately react by flinching as if he slapped me and scrambling off the bench.

"You - you can sing?" he gulps, staring at me as I rush to pick up my bag.

"No," I shake my head furiously, trying to think up a lie, "That was my phone playing."

"No," he frowns, "I watched you. You were so deep in your world, you didn't notice me."

"You can't tell anyone," I pleaded, backing towards the door.

"Why not?" he smirks at me.

Oh no.

"Because it will give them another reason to bully me about," his smirk slips.

"Are you kidding," he scoffs, "Have you heard yourself? You're amazing."

I blush and open the door, wanting nothing more than to run away and never look back.

"Please don't," I frown at him, "I already have enough on my plate."

And with that I exit the music room, leaving him to his own. I run out the school and towards my house, praying my step-mother isn't home yet.

~•~•~

I hope you like it. I wrote down the lyrics myself, by listening to the song and pausing every other second. Tedious work I tell you. Sucks to have no Wi-Fi when you're writing. Oh the struggle!

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LilMissImperfection xoxo