SUMMER'S POV

Another day, another piece of me gone.

I slowly get out of bed and walk towards the full length mirror on my wall. Why is it that every time I look in the mirror I see a piece of trash?

I see someone who is:

Scared.

Ugly.

Meaningless.

A Moron.

Empty.

Retarded.

Me, Summer Hathaway.

The lines on my arms are still red, which means it's a long-sleeve today, again. Each scar has a memory.

Useless.

Fat.

Trash.

Whore.

Bitch.

No one wants you.

My life went down-hill when I started middle school. My mother died and my father started getting drunk every night. Each night he would take it out on me, making my body more and more purple.

My best friend, Tomika, knows about the bruises, but since I am such a klutz, I tell her I tripped, fell, or bumped into something. But it's been so long since she has been at my house. Everytime we hang out now, I make excuses so we can go to her house instead.

The only thing that keeps me going is her... and him, Freddy.

I have had a massive crush on him since fourth grade. Now, we are in ninth grade. He is fifteen, and I'm fourteen, turning fifteen in a couple of months. He is so nice, sweet, understanding, attractive, and caring. He is the total package, nut he never notices me.

No matter how hard I try, he just doesn't seem to return my feelings. I have starved myself and changed my look a little bit, but he is still oblivious that I fawn over him everyday.

I wish he would look at me like I look at him.

He is the only guy in the world to me. He is my sunshine, my smile, my friend, my crush, my heart, my soul, my everything.

Bang!Bang!

"Open this door!" I hear my father yell.

Oh no.

If he comes in he'll hurt me. But if I don't open the door, he'll try to sexually assault me again. Or even worse... kill me.

"I'm only gonna ask one more time you bitch! Open this motherfucking door!" he roars.

With trembling legs, I walk myself to the other side of the room. With quivering fingers, I slowly turn the lock on the doorknob.

As soon as the lock clicks, the door busts open, throwing me to the ground.

"Why was the damn door locked?!" my dad asks angrily.

"I-"

"I thought I told you that you can never lock this door!" he growls.

He brings his foot back, and as if in slow motion, he contacts my stomach. Throbbing and burning pain spreads through my stomach, and I clutch it, bringing my knees and arms in, making myself into a ball.

"It won't happen again. I promise, Dad," I say with tears threatening my eyes.

"What did you just say?!" he screams, kicking me in the head.

I feel as if a bubble pops inside of me. I touch my head and try to see if my guess is correct. It is. I am bleeding.

"I promise, sir," I say with tears now rolling down my cheeks.

"Better. Now, I'm going to take a shower. If you're not out of this house by the time I'm out, you're going to wish you had died," he says storming out of my room and slamming the door.

I wish I was dead...not for the first time. I crawl to the edge of my bed and use my arms to pull myself up. Alright. Shower. That gives me about thirty-five minutes.

It is 6:30.

I open the cabinet next to me and get out my first-aid kit.

I take out the disinfectant, pour it onto a cotton patch, and rub it on my head. After a few cotton patches, I have fully cleaned my bruise. Now, all I have to do is cover the bruise up with my hair and be careful. I get some paper towels from the kit and start to clean up the small specks of blood that were left on the floor. After I am done, I throw my patches and paper towels away and put away my first-aid kit.

I pick my outfit for the day, a blue tank-top, a light blue long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and black tennis shoes. I let my hair down.

I look in the mirror and still see the same piece of shit I have seen everyday.

But what am I going to do?

I go to the cabinet where my first-aid kit is, open it, grab a paper towel, and place it on top of the cabinet beside my small lamp. Then I put my hand in the cabinet and reach deep into the back. Once I feel the cold metal, I grab it in my hand and pull them out, my scissors.

I pull my sleeve up, open my scissors, place one of the blades in a rare empty spot on my forearm, and press down. I press down until I see blood drip down my arm and onto the paper towel. I then slowly slide the blade across my arm. Blood keeps coming out, almost as if my arm is a spring.

The blade completes the journey to the other side of my arm, I wipe it with the towel, wipe the access​ blood on my arm, throw the towel away, put my scissors back in their hiding spot, and pull my sleeve down.

6:50.

Shit. I better start making my way to school. I grab my phone, go downstairs, get my backpack, and leave this sorry excuse for a home.

As I walk down the sidewalk, I pray that today will be ok. But as always... my prayer is never answered.

FREDDY'S POV

I open my eyes and I am blinded by the light. I put my hand out to cover the sun rays and sit up on my bed.

"Freddy hurry up! You don't want to be late!" my mom yells from downstairs.

"Ok mom!" I yell back.

As I got out of bed, I see a text from my best friend- Zack.

-"Hey man. What's up? You ready for another day?"-

Ugh, another day of Summer's annoying

His inquiry makes me think-not happily- about Summer. Every single day, she tries to get me to like her. I know for sure that she likes me, I mean who wouldn't. You'd have to be deaf and blind.

I'm tired of her always chasing me around. I mean she's my friend and all, but lately she has been getting on my nerves.

-"Not really. I'm gonna have to deal with Summer," -

Ding!

-"Come on, man. Don't be mean. Give her a break. She totally likes you. And she's pretty, nice, and sweet,"-

-"For the last time, I don't like her back, and I never will! I don't think she is pretty,"-

Don't get me wrong. I do think Summer is pretty, but if I look at her like that...then no. No way in hell.

I change from my shorts into jeans and put my gray sweatshirt on.

Ding!

-"Ok, dude. Don't get all defensive, but you know she is still gonna fawn over you like a puppy," he texted.

Ugh. He's right. Why can't she just take a hint and leave me the fuck alone?

"Look bro, if she still tries to what she calls 'flirt' with me, I'm gonna let her have it. To be honest, this has annoyed be so much. I have to put an end to this," I replied.

And I meant it.

I just want Summer to stop drooling about me. I'm never going to look at her that way. If it doesn't stop today, I'm going to make it stop.

Ding!

I read his text.

"Are you sure Freddy? I mean Summer is really sensitive. You don't wanna hurt her do you?" he replied.

"Look, I really don't care if I hurt her feelings, if that's what it takes for her to stop, so be it!" I wrote back.

Ding!

"Alright man. It's your decision and your funeral if Tomika finds out, but don't say I didn't warn you," he texted.

"Believe me. I'll be glad that I didn't listen to you," I replied.

Ding!

"Ok, well, I'll see you at school," he wrote.

"See ya," I text back.

I go downstairs for breakfast, and after I finish, I grab my stuff and head to school.

Please don't let Summer "flirt" with me today.

But as usual...my prayer is never answered.

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°
Hello guys.

This is my new story, a School Of Rock Fanfic.

This will obviously be a little different than the actual School Of Rock but I still hope you like it.

Lets make it:

5 votes

For the next chapter.

Hope you liked it.

Bye!😘

*Linda.