Sticks And Stones

'Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me'. How many times have I heard that before?! It's like ever since my mom died someone has been out to get me. But why? And now, living with my step-dad Steve, things can't get much worse. The last thing I want is a bully on my back.

(*This is only going to be a short story*)


1. Where It All Started...

One month after all the sad faces, one month after all the 'aww, I'm so sorry Blaire', one month after my mother's funeral. It was so hard to take in at first, it was as though the weight of the world had suddenly fell on my shoulders and it made me feel sick. Not only did I have to look after myself, I had to look after my sister Bella as well. Tears began to sting my eyes at even the thought of having to getting everything sorted whilst Steve staggered round the apartment, his speech all slurred. I knew it scared Bella the way he acted but now with mom gone, he was the only reason we weren't sent straight into foster care. I would more than gladly go to a foster home but I know Bel wouldn't last two minutes in there. Everything I was doing was for her.

"Blaire? BLAIRE! Get in her you stupid girl!" called Steve. I ran downstairs before he went into a rage, smashing anything in his path.

"Yes? What do you want?" I asked him sarcastically, cutting my eyes at him. I couldn't help but hate this man. However, hate is such a weak word to describe the way I feel about him. Despise is somewhat closer.

"Where's my can of beer?!" he asked, the smell of alcohol strong on his breathe.

"Out of harms way. You've already had one too many tonight and I'm only thinking about your health!"

"One too many?! ONE TOO MANY?! How DARE you! What would you know, your just a stupid little girl!" and that last comment somewhat cut me as since I turned 16 I couldn't help but feeling slightly grown up. I sighed, rubbing my forehead, and gave in because when he was drunk there was no telling what he might do. I handed him the cold, metalic can of Fosters and his eyes flickered from the drink to me but then back to the drink. He wasn't going to say thank you.

I turned to my homework but maths wasn't the only one having problems. Things were turning from bad to worse at school. It was as though the bullies always found something else to tease me about, criticizing my every move. 'It's not as though they're perfect' I always thought to myself. I tried my hardest to act strong, to never admit defeat, but I felt like a football being slowly deflated and now I'm almost completely flat. But my main question was what do they want? Why me? Did they get pleasure from my suffering? Some questions will just never be answered, I guess.


As I walk into school and paint my emotionless mask onto my face. Then I spotted my best friend, Cara, from across the yard and relief flooded through me however I did not allow it to effect my mask. I almost ran over to her and was thankful no bully tried to stop me along the way.

"Hey! " she said, as she saw me come over and we stopped to talk about our weekend. Nothing much had happened to me so I let Cara do all the talking and to be honest, that was the way it was most of the time. And my day went quite well considering the fact that I was at school. And I would have classed it as a perfect day, but perfect never happened to me.

I had just walked into my French class and everyone stared at me and started sniggering. I turned around at first before noticing I was the centre of attention and then I immediatly tried to see what was wrong. Was there something in my teeth? Was my hair really bumpy? Was there toilet paper stuck on my shoe? And then I heard someone whisper something behind me.

"Have you heard about Blaire? Apparantly she got a detention for locking a Year 7 in a cupboard?!" and they sounded shocked. And so was I, considering the fact I'd never even done it! Who would be cruel enough to do that? Honestly the things people pin on me. And all through French I could feel everyone's eyes boring into the back on my head but I just bottled up the pain and ignored it. Average day for me.


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