Broken</31
New member
- Mar 5, 2011
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I sprawled out onto the ground, my books spraying across the floor.
“I am so sor-” a male voice started, then laughed when he turned to see who‘d he’d bumped into. “Then again, I’m not. It’s just Little Miss Emo.” It was Jake, the school’s star football player. The school’s top student. The school’s everything… or as I liked to call him -- jerkface.
The rest of his friends laughed. Tears filled my eyes, and I stood up. They weren’t tears of sadness, pain, misery, but anger. One spilled over but I wiped it away quickly as I stared at Jake. “Aw, is Emo actually crying? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do that. Guys, lets watch this creature in her… unnatural habitat,” he said, as if I wasn‘t close enough to hear what he said.
I turned around, ignoring him. I had found from several detentions that it was best to keep the feelings on the inside instead of releasing them right then and landing all of us in the same room for two hours.
Bending down to pick up my books, the tears came down harder. These were my usual tears of misery. I never cried at school for more than anger. Anger I didn’t care to show, but misery, pain, and sadness were weaknesses that I was not willing to share with my peers.
Constructive criticism, ONLY, please! Thank you so much for your time and answers!
“I am so sor-” a male voice started, then laughed when he turned to see who‘d he’d bumped into. “Then again, I’m not. It’s just Little Miss Emo.” It was Jake, the school’s star football player. The school’s top student. The school’s everything… or as I liked to call him -- jerkface.
The rest of his friends laughed. Tears filled my eyes, and I stood up. They weren’t tears of sadness, pain, misery, but anger. One spilled over but I wiped it away quickly as I stared at Jake. “Aw, is Emo actually crying? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do that. Guys, lets watch this creature in her… unnatural habitat,” he said, as if I wasn‘t close enough to hear what he said.
I turned around, ignoring him. I had found from several detentions that it was best to keep the feelings on the inside instead of releasing them right then and landing all of us in the same room for two hours.
Bending down to pick up my books, the tears came down harder. These were my usual tears of misery. I never cried at school for more than anger. Anger I didn’t care to show, but misery, pain, and sadness were weaknesses that I was not willing to share with my peers.
Constructive criticism, ONLY, please! Thank you so much for your time and answers!