The New Girl Next Door

Chapter4

Kaylie’s POV

April 2nd became my official breaking point. I was holding it all together until that day.

It started like any other day. I went to class, was called a slut at least ten times, and was grabbed by God knows who. But that changed when I got into a fight with Paige Smith

#

I am standing by my locker grabbing a few things I need for my next class. Dylan, Toby, Bryan, Becky, Beth, and Paige walk past me, on their way to their next classes or lockers. Paige turns her attention to me and calls me a slut, nothing new.

As I am closing my locker, I mumble to myself, “You’re one to talk.”

I start to walk away but someone grabs my shoulder and spins me around. I come face to face with Paige, and I realize she heard what I said.

She looks down at me since she is about six inches taller and asks, “What did you say to me, b***h?”

“I said, ‘You’re one to talk.”

A small group of people forms around us, and Paige has a surprised look on her face. She probably wasn’t expecting me to say anything to her. She snaps, “So you’re calling me a slut?”

With a shrug I say, “I mean if the shoe fits.”

I start to walk away to my next, but I don’t get very far. She grabs my hair, pulls me backward then slams my face into a locker. I grunt when my face connects with the locker. I drop my backpack to the ground and turn around to face them all. Paige is smirking, while everyone else is laughing. There is blood slowly trickling down my face and a bruise forming on my forehead. My eyes start to water because my nose hit the locker too.

She looks satisfied with herself. “Are you going to cry?”

I’m done. I refuse to deal with this s**t anymore. “You b***h!” I yell as I push her.

A fight between us breaks out. The crowd surrounding us starts yelling fight or telling Paige to kick my ass. I started out as a lot of pushing and calling the other person a b***h, but it escalates quickly.

She tries to pull my hair, but I ram my shoulder into her chest to push her off me. I must have gotten her good because she stands there for a second trying to catch her breath. I wait for her counterattack while her eyes darken with rage.

She comes at me with all her force, and it causes me to stumble a little bit. She sees this as her opportunity to get the upper hand in the fight. She rips her fake nails across my left cheek. I wince in pain and grab my cheek. When I pull my hand back there is blood, and I can taste it as it makes it way into my mouth. Everyone is yelling, “Ohhh!” as they watch more of my blood roll off my face and hit the ground. Her smirk comes back, she thinks she won, and I am going to start crying on the spot.

Not happening. I want to punch that smirk off her face. So that’s what I do, as my right-hand clenches into a fist and connects with her nose. She stumbles backward and Bryan catches her before she falls over. She is crying and Beth and Becky’s anger is boiling. But before they could come at me, we all hear someone yelling at us from down the hall. I instantly know who it is, a shiver runs down my back as panic grows on everyone’s faces.

Principal Warner taps her foot against the ground and folds her arms across her chest. “All of you get to class, except for you two, Ms. Smith and Ms. Burke.” She then sees how much the two of us are bleeding then demand we go see the nurse before heading to her office.

#

Paige didn’t stay too long in the nurse’s office. The nurse called her mom and told her that she believes her nose is broken. When Mrs. Smith arrived to take Paige to the doctors, the two of them shot me a glare as they were leaving the office.

The nurse has me sit on the bed while she looks over my wounds. She sees the bump forming on my forehead and grabs a small light to shine into my eyes to rule out a concussion. Luckily, I am not concussed. Tears form in my eyes and as the adrenalin wears off, I can feel how much pain I am in.

She takes some alcohol pads and begins wiping my wounds. I pinch my eyes shut and bite down on my lower lip because it stings horribly. She reassures me that she is almost done and will place a few bandages on the wounds. I was expecting the nurse to not show me any sympathy since the school has a zero-tolerance policy for fighting. However, she knows me well since I used to be in her office every month since my PMS was so bad until mom finally got me on birth control.

She looks at me with concern in her eyes. “Kaylie, it’s going to be okay.” She gives me a small smile before sending me off to Mrs. Warner’s office.

As I walk into the office, Toby, Beth, Dylan, Bryan, and Becky are walking out. They were probably informing Warner about what happened especially sine Paige had to leave school early before she could. The five of them have smirks on their faces when they see me. Great, they probably told her I was the one who started it. I roll eyes at them and slowly enter Mrs. Warner’s office ready to accept whatever punishment she has in store for me.

She motions to the chair across from her desk, looking disappointed. “Hello Ms. Burke, please sit down.” I sit down, looking at my hands. “I am going to cut to the chase, you will be receiving a three-day suspension for fighting. Don’t worry, Ms. Smith will be receiving the same punishment. Also, I have already called your parents and left them a message informing them about your suspension and the fight. Since they are unable to pick you up, I trust you enough to leave the school boundaries and head directly home on your own.” Her tone changes to softer one as she asks, “I must ask though, why did you fight Paige? Kaylie, you are a good student and have not caused any trouble in the past. I am surprised you are sitting here in my office today.”

I sigh and finally look up at her. “Sorry, Paige and I just don’t get along. The two of us got into an argument that escalated into a fight.” I then go back to looking down, twiddling my thumbs.

“Kaylie, the others informed me that you had started the fight, but part of me doesn’t believe that. But really, whoever started it doesn’t matter since we have a zero-tolerance policy for fighting.” She pauses for a second. “However, that isn’t what concerns me. Your teachers have informed me that your demeanor in class has changed drastically. Your grades haven’t dropped, actually in some classes they went up, but you don’t interact with any of your classmates anymore, your participation in class has diminished, they have heard many negative comments made in your direction, and now you get into fight. Kaylie, is something going on that I should know about.”

I can tell her everything that is going on, but in that moment, I make up my mind and none of that matters anymore. I calmly tell her, “Nothing is going on, just trying to give other students the opportunity to participate and I prefer working by myself in class. If that is it, may I please head home and start my suspension?”

She reluctantly agrees, but before I walk out of her office, she informs me, “Kaylie, if you complete at least thirty hours of service work on top of your already required house, I will not put this incident on your permanent record.” I thank her and leave.

#

It takes me about ten minutes to get home. My dog, Jar Jar, greets me at the door, and is very excited to see me. I give him some attention, quickly let him outside, and give him a treat after he comes back in. As he is eating his treat, I grab myself a glass of water then head upstairs to the bathroom.

I stare at myself in the mirror, and I can see all the pain and brokenness behind my blue eyes. They look almost colorless to me at this point, as if all hope that used to behind them has vanished. Tears fill my eyes, and a single tear slides down my cheek before it lands in the sink. I remove my bandages from my face. I want to see all the damage that has been done to me. As I run my fingers over the scratch on my cheek, I wince a bit since it still so fresh. A bump has formed around the cut on my forehead, and I trace it with my finger. The skin below my eyes is now purple and blue from hitting my nose on that damn locker. But these are only fraction of the damage.

I remove my shirt, jeans, and bra, and stare myself in the mirror only in my underwear. I look so defeated and helpless. Tears roll down my face and I can’t stop them. I want to scream, but I’m too weak. Also, why try? I have already given up. I examine my lifeless body as tears stain my skin or fall to the floor. My ribs are visible, I run my fingers along them and over my bony hips, thinking about how much weight I have lost over these past few months from stress and not having an appetite. My fingers and eyes move up to my breasts that are covered in small bruises and finger marks from people grabbing them so much. I thought if I didn’t slap their hands away the guys would stick to grabbing my ass. The problem is not all guys are ass guys. I slowly turn around and see the bruises on my shoulders from Paige pushing me into the lockers.

At this point I am crying uncontrollably. I slide my body down the bathroom wall and lay on the ground because I’m too weak to stand anymore. As I wipe the tears from my eyes, I notice the small scars littering my wrists. I lay on my back and raise my arm in the arm so I can see my wrist clearly, slowly I trace each scar with my thumb before switching arms and repeating the process. This motion is soothing, and I find myself starting to calm down. However, I already made up my mind earlier, this just gave my ability to get off the floor.

Slowly I make my way to my bedroom and grab one of my dad’s old t-shirts that I like to sleep in. I move to my desk, grabbing a small piece of paper and a pen. My hands are shaking, and tears begin to blur my vision as I write:

Mom and Dad,

I’m sorry and I love you.

Kay

I want to write more but I can’t get myself to do it. They deserve more, but I can’t give them that. I place the pen down and stare at the note, knowing this is what I am leaving them with. Tears start to drench the paper and ink begins to smudge. I leave the room before it becomes so smudged that it is unreadable. They need to know I am sorry and that I will always love them.

In the bathroom, I open the medicine cabinet and grab a bottle of pills. My hands are shaking so much that it takes a second for me to get the lid of, but when I do I place single pill in my hand. I stare at the lone pill for a solid minute thinking about what has become of my life. It’s not going to get any better, this is the only way. I place the pill in my mouth and take a sip of water. I repeat this process until the bottom is almost empty, sometimes placing three or four pills in my hand at a time. My body starts to become weak and slowly bring myself to the floor. I lay down in the fetal position and close my eyes thinking about my parents.