webnovel

in pieces

Abigail Miller, a student studying in 'Rainbow high school'. "I'm not like others, I'm not normal" is what she always used to say to herself. She's practically a nerd in every students eye, but no one knows what made her like this, what happened that night, the night that changed everything , the night which tore her soul in pieces, the night which made her feel like she was not normal anymore,the night which made her think like she cannot be loved anymore, the night when she felt those dirty hands wrapping around her body forcing her closer and closer, the night which she never wanted to exist...

writersyy ยท Teen
Not enough ratings
3 Chs

Abigail: Day 1 (I'm alive)

I sat on the second bench because last wasn't preferable, first was deniable, third was occupied.

It was a math lecture. I wasn't a math person, like; they claim it's playing with figures but I don't even have friends to play with and I don't even enjoy playing, be it with numbers or humans.

I received a text message from Mom, it read

- "Hey, sweetheart! Wanted to inform you that you have a consulting session with Sarah today and I'll be coming to pick you up after school until then, be a good student :)"

She saw me. I knew this would happen. It wasn't surprising. I was just agitated that now I'll see Sarah often and she will ask me questions and make me feel like I don't deserve to live an ordinary life. 'I'm not normal ' will reiterate in my head again.

Molly came as soon as the bell rang, at the same time. She squatted on the second last bench in the same row because our principle was that if ever a situation like this occurs then, the first bench is deniable and the last bench is preferable. She saw me and signaled me by moving her hand towards the second last bench so I know or maybe because I was looking at her, WHATEVER.

I was not ready to see Ms. Lily's face on the very first day and that too in the first lecture.

She entered. She wore a pink striped piece with a black button-down skirt, side partitioned dark blonde hair and glasses that were thin and black.

"Good morning!" She greeted.

Sometimes I doubted if she was a math teacher or an exemplar. No matter what's happening, you would always see her adorned and with side partitioned hair.

She parted her glossed lips to say something but was interrupted by someone. Latecomer, I guess.

There are two types of latecomers:

a. Actual latecomers.

b. I-want-to-disturb-the-class latecomers

I didn't even try to guess which one this would be until I saw his face, the same face. He was heaving, one palm on the door for support, which he just flung open and smacked against the wall. He was diaphoretic, his clothes were drenched, sweat was dripping off his cheeks, forehead, temples. It seemed like he ran a marathon. His hair over his eyes, this time I tried more to pay less attention to his deep-brown eyes and instead started looking at his clothes.

He wore a white t-shirt that said 'sublime' in block letters with paired black jeans, ripped jeans and a bluish bag with a ring in the index finger of his left hand. My eyes wanted to move and look into his, study them, more immensely this time. His eyes told something, a melancholic story. They were esoteric, he was esoteric.

"I'm sorry."

That's all he said, and that's the only words I've heard from him, first in the hallway and now when he is late. I already knew what Miss Lily would say, it was like, I knew her very well, all her actions.

'Famous people make their way at the end...' is what I thought she would say but this time she was calm, mild as if she knew who he was, her blank expression was supplanted by a grin.

"Come, sit," she said while pointing at the very first bench, the bench in front of me.

"What? Is this happening? Did she change? How can a summer break change a person? That too Ms. Lily?" I thought. I was dazed, aghast at her mildness.

"Wait! Won't you introduce yourself?" Ms. Lily asked. You can still see the grin on her face.

He shook his head, his mild expression never left his face, they never changed.

"Well, okay. If you feel comfortable, talk to them during the break?"

He nodded.

Why can't he speak? why is he so quiet?๐‘ฉ๐’†๐’„๐’‚๐’–๐’”๐’† ๐’‰๐’† ๐’Š๐’” ๐’๐’๐’“๐’Ž๐’‚๐’, ๐’‰๐’† ๐’…๐’๐’†๐’”๐’'๐’• ๐’๐’†๐’†๐’… ๐’•๐’ ๐’Š๐’๐’•๐’“๐’๐’…๐’–๐’„๐’† ๐’‰๐’Š๐’Ž๐’”๐’†๐’๐’‡, ๐’‘๐’†๐’๐’‘๐’๐’† ๐’๐’Š๐’Œ๐’† ๐’‰๐’Š๐’Ž ๐’ˆ๐’†๐’• ๐’‚๐’•๐’•๐’†๐’๐’•๐’Š๐’๐’ ๐’†๐’—๐’†๐’ ๐’˜๐’Š๐’•๐’‰๐’๐’–๐’• ๐’Š๐’๐’•๐’“๐’๐’…๐’–๐’„๐’Š๐’๐’ˆ ๐’•๐’‰๐’†๐’Ž๐’”๐’†๐’๐’—๐’†๐’”. ๐‘ฏ๐’‚๐’—๐’†๐’'๐’• ๐’š๐’๐’– ๐’๐’๐’๐’Œ๐’†๐’… ๐’‚๐’• ๐’‰๐’Š๐’Ž? He is... charming? ๐’€๐’†๐’”. Just like the word on his t-shirt?

๐‘บ๐’–๐’ƒ๐’๐’Š๐’Ž๐’†.

My thoughts and I never failed to converse it's like one of those friendships's where you complete each other's sentences as an example of a good friend and by being a mean friend as well. Who knows when my thoughts will start eating me up?

The text within the parenthesis (...) indicates Abigail's thoughts.

writersyycreators' thoughts