"There is always more misery among the lower classes than there is humanity in the higher."

- Victor Hugo, Les Misérables.

Chapter 2:

I woke up to see a hard wooden dusty floor. My back ached as much as my stomach did. I groaned into the floor, wondering why I had ended up like this. I looked around me and noticed that I was still inside my hiding spot. I remembered there being a window in this room, but there wasn't any view except a brick wall. Though, even with the brick wall there, all I wanted to do right now is see what time of day it was. If it was too dark outside, I knew I would have to spend the night here like I did sometimes before, but if it was still day time, I would be taking a long walk back to the wretched placed I called my home. How I hated that place. Mrs. Barnes, my foster mom never wanted or cared if I was there. She never noticed when I came in at the brink of midnight and I bet right now she was just shopping away somewhere. She was enjoying all of the money that she was given by the government without a free care in the world. No words can describe how I hated her and her selfish habits.

Why was it that my mother left me with that filthy woman, that I have to call 'mother' around other people? Why didn't she keep me? Those questions can never be answered because apparently she was dead. Mrs. Barnes had told me that when I was younger and still does til this day. I cannot go one day without her yelling out, "No one wanted you! Not even your parents. I bet she got knocked up with you by some one night stand and as soon as she found the chance to get rid of you, she took her own life!" I hated how she took my life as a humor to her and I never did anything about it. It was almost like everything I did in life always had its own consequences. That's why life is unfair. It's either you are lucky or you're not.

I always think that life is somewhat against me, because not once had I earned any sprinkle of luck. Luck was extremely rare in my lifetime and I don't think I will ever see it. If god answered my prayers it would be a true blessing, that's what I hoped for. Deep inside of me, I had faith that maybe my pleads for a better life would come true. I am always apologizing that I think of suicide, for that will guide me to hell and not heaven. But what's the use when I am always so miserable? Life is no life for me- it's just death.

I went up on my feet, and stretched. My back cracking had me sagging in relief before I wend over to the window. Pulling open the curtain that was actually a tattered blanket, bright light blinded my eyes and I had to quickly shut them so my eyes could adjust. In a slow motion, my eyebrows furrowed together as a frown immediately sprung on my once tired face. Why was it so bright? I came here around one in the afternoon yesterday, when it was pouring rain. I was sure the forecast said on the news a couple days ago, that yesterday would be raining all day. I believe that static channel that I once in while got to watch in my foster home. They were right every time, so what was it?

I remembered there was a small clock that was somewhere on the wall in the room. I kept the curtain wide open for the light to sink into the room. That way I could see better and could make out where the clock was. I knew it was somewhere around here... After a while of searching, I had finally found it beneath a pile of sheets that I kept here. How it got under there, the world may never know. I for sure wouldn't remember anything.

I glanced at the wounds that were all over my body and the flash of everything that happened those couple of days ago came back to me.

*Flash Back*

"What a monster she was!"

"Look at those terrible locks of hair! Does she even brush it?"

"I bet it's a weave... No she can't afford that, maybe it's some hobo's wig that she stole!"

I woke up that morning happy that the Television was actually working. Working meaning that you could see some images here and there and the rest was all static. But like it mattered! Having television was possibly the only thing, I can bring myself to enjoy.

I don't enjoy people since all they do is make fun of me or roughen me up. I don't enjoy spending time, if that's what you call it, with my foster care 'family' because not one of them bother to look at me and barely know I am standing right in front of them most of the time. I am an invisible person, and the last time I was visible was when I was still in Primary school. Those were the best days I've had in my life and they are also the days I regret. I regretted making Daniella as a friend because none of this bullying would ever happen. Or maybe the bullying would still happen, just not as worse as is now. But what if I hadn't made friends with her? What would my life be like? Would I be just like all of the other students and staff that were hypnotized by the group she hangs out with? Yeah, probably.

But, Everything happens for a reason I suppose.

"Hey loser, heads up!" A loud shout called out, seconds too late, which was done on purpose as a football came whirling at my head.

I didn't move since the warning didn't help and by then it was inches to my face. Before I knew it, I was on the ground, unconscious from the hard blow of the ball. When I awoke, I was moaning and groaning from the large migraine I currently had.

"Why does it hurt?" I said more to myself. I didn't know where I was, but I knew I was on something hard. It seemed like concrete and when I opened up my eyes, my thoughts were confirmed.

Indeed it was concrete and that might have been why my head had been hurting so badly. My eyes glanced all around me and saw that near the top of my head on the concrete was a tiny forming puddle of a crimson red liquid. When I tried to move my head, it started to pound, the migraine getting worse if I moved even as much as a centimeter. There was a stinging sensation on my forehead that I couldn't figure out. What in the world happened?

"Why in the world does the bad things always happen to me?" I asked myself, and I hadn't expected anyone to answer. When they did though, I jumped, frightened seeing as there was another presence behind me. No, it was just one presence, but many others. I could feel it. Somehow, I knew that this wasn't going to turn out so well.

"Maybe because you are the bad thing." I knew her voice as well as I knew mine. Trish Peterson, the most popular girl and hottest girl in school. And she knew it too. That's why every time I saw or heard her shrilly voice, I would either get majorly pissed off or do the opposite. Curl up into a ball. And right now I wanted to do the latter. She's the most vicious thing any one could ever meet and it was my luck that I met her. It was meant to be. "As I told you and I'm sure everyone else has... Probably even yourself. Do us all a favor and jump off a bridge Ugly Betty." I could see her now, even as my vision was locked on the ground, she had a smirk that was always plastered on her face. No matter what.

I could hear her coo behind me, "Awe, does the poor monster too hurt to get up or speak? You poor baby!" It was after that, the sudden shattering pain of someone's heel was jabbed into my spine making me yelp. I wasn't expecting that then and there, so it was more painful.

"Trent, Shawn. Grab one of her arms, I want to see her disgusting face." Trish sneered and I could hear the rustling of the jocks she called to do her dirty work for her. Behind me, I knew who was there now. This was the normal every day beating or if I was lucky, every other day beating I would usually get from either Trish, Frita or sometimes Daniella.

"Anything for you sweet cheeks," A deep voice whispered, loud enough for Trish and I to hear. She moaned while almost gagged when I heard the smacking noises of kisses. Can't I die here and now? Why do I deserve this?

I was pulled up by two pairs of strong arms and they were kept locked in their hold. I couldn't move anything but my legs. It already hurt to move anything at all, so I let my body go limp and my head down. The sooner this was over, the better. I could probably go to my hideout and rest after this. I smiled a little, but that was a big mistake on my part.

"What are you smiling about, you fucking lesbian!" Trish screeched and started to pummel me with her tiny fists. Even if they were tiny, they hit me in every spot that I had vulnerable. Which was practically everything. She kicked and scratched every where she could and I was lying in Shawn and Trent's arms, limp. I was already used to this and the guilt that was in each bystanders eyes in the beginning was long gone. They all learned they could not do anything and that they would be bullied too. They learned to ignore the whole scene all together as if nothing was happening. Would I do the same if I saw someone being beaten up like I was right now?

Suddenly it was like all of the senses in me were alive again, and I felt all of the pain head on. Groaning, I started to scream in agony. It was too much, way too much and I knew this time I wouldn't be able to keep consciousness. I continued to scream, even if she stopped five minutes later. They dropped me on the ground without any kind of tenderness. As the jocks and Trish walked away, I was kicked muliple times more in the stomach and legs by the jocks before they left completely. I lied on the ground still before blacking out.

No one came to help me, because no one liked me. I was alone in this big sad world and there was no one that would bother coming to my rescue. What did I do to get put through all of this?

*End of Flash Back*

The clock read that it was an hour that I had to get to school. I must have slept longer than I thought I did, it was probably from the energy I had to use when I ran all the way here in the rain. I would have to stop the foster care to get a new change of clothes and spray on some perfume, along with brushing my hair. Despite my peers saying that I never brushed my hair or was a hot mess, I really didn't try to be that. I always made myself as descent as I possibly could. Even without looking in a stupid mirror. Mirrors would make me judge myself more than I already was. I would probably be tempted to turn into one of the devils that went to my school. And I definitely didn't want that. Cleaning up my wounds again, since it was a new day, I walked out of my hideout swiftly, waiting for a torturous day to come.