run girlie run

[Front cover by- tessellate- Check her out! ^^]
The mistake was when i opened the door. The mistake was when he changed me. The mistake was everything lost.


3. Life how i envy you



That is how i always felt. 


I decided to blow a breath out of my nose, and stared silently at the petty girl in the mirror. Her skin was pale white and blemish free. Beach blonde hair that framed her face, her lips were soft pink and turned down. Making a small frown. Her thin eye browns formed a concentrating face in the mirror as she stared back at me. I decided to take notice of the grey shirt, that complimented her slightly large leather jacket. The girl sighed heavily and stepped away from the mirror, mimicking my own movements.


That girl was me.


My name is Delilah Jones, i am sixteen years old, A light fluttery name, for such an afflicted girl. My deserted life has never carried such happy words like the ones of my name. There was no mercy for me, or grace. It started at such a young age, pressuring me to grow up,quicker than most children. You see at the delicate age of six, my father Dylan Jones was viciously murdered. Right in front of the only child he had. I was the only one who saw what that man had did to him... how they killed him. He didn't see me however, unconcerned his horrible activities, were being observed by an innocent little girl's eyes.  The saddest part was no one believed me at all. Everyone gawked themselves with laughter when i tried to tell them what happened to the adoring fire man that everyone so "adored". Even my own mother dismissed me. Accusing me of a disturbed child who was hoping for attention, that her own mother deprived her of. 


The sound of a flush brought me of my own thoughts. I snapped my own eyes shut and watched the petty girl stroll out of the stall.

She had shoulder length hair that was perfectly straight on all sides, not a single hair out of place. She had dark blue eyes that were outlined in dark mascara and eye liner. She had on tight jeans and a low-cut V-neck, and when i say low cut, i mean low cut, so low infact i was given the pleasure to see what colour her bra was, neon green.  Her orange tinted skin looked as if it was smacked on with loads of make-up.

I abruptly snapped my gaze up, internally gagging at the horrid clothing choice, and focused on her critical gaze.


She watched me with unpleasant ridden eyes. It's the sickness everyone at this god forsaken school has. The high-school disease. Also commonly known as: popularity. It's the thing that everyone wants. To be popular and loved by all. To never be insecure in one's natural surroundings. To obtain this dreadful sickness, one must observe a common peer and follow in their real footsteps. To be popular you must follow one simple rule.


Make everyone like you. Even if that means changing who you are as a person, this girl next to me has just done that, how do i know?


Because this girl standing right next to me, used to be my best friend.


"Hello Caroline," I said slowly, my hands squeezing on the edge of the sink. Her eyes narrowed towards me, flipping her black hair back, with perfectly manicured fingers. Her lips formed in to an arrogant smirk, and she cocked out a hip.

Her left hand, decorated in bright red nail polish, came to rest on her protruding hip. Her poster was defensive and hostile, and i knew why. I know her darkest secrets and fears. I know she likes chocolate ice cream and bad sitcoms. I know she hates nail polish but loves the rain. I know she hates football and thinks that cheerleaders are obnoxious. I know her favourite food are pizza and pickles. I know her mother loves her father's story for what he did. I know she hates him for leaving her mother, but she misses him. I know everything about this stranger who i called my best friend.

"Hey freak," She spat, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

I smiled, holding back the grimace i desperately wanted to show and turned on the sink water. I eased my pale fingers into the warm water and rubbed my palms together, I flung my left hand out to reach for the soap. I rubbed my hands together, creating small and big suds, and stared at Caroline in the mirror, she stared at me with a prissy pout, obviously waiting for my reaction to pour her insult. I sighed at her and shot her the same smile back at her.


"Aww Carrie you say the nicest things." 


She blinked and sneered. "Y-you're such a bitch Delilah!" 


I gave a dry laugh and wiped my hands clean with a paper towel, i threw it in the trash and and braced myself against the edge of the can, staring at the bin filled with scrunched up paper. Silence filled the air with tension. I chuckled and though it held no humour and studied her sideways.


"Why?" I barked, pushing myself of the bin. Her make-up on her face faltered, but as quick as the confusion came, it left. She replaced it with nasty sneers and twirled her fake black hair and twirled it around her red nails. Her hair used to be so beautiful i was jealous of it for years. Her hair used to be a friary red colour that concaved her pale face. But now she just looks like a clone.


"Because." She suddenly drawled out. "I could never be friends with some one who's a murderer." I blinked and stared at her. She smirked and popped her gum out hotly. 

Her words seemed to finally sink in. Fire coursed through my veins, and i snapped my head towards her.


"Don't you. EVER. Say that again, Caroline! I did not murder my own father and you know it, so don't go around spreading rumours for your own personal gain" i hissed.

By now her dark blue eyes were clear of shock, and alive with anger. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her eyebrows were drawn together. Her skin was flushed pink, though hardly visible through under her orange tan, and mile deep make-up. Her hair stuck to her glossed lips, and she flicked it away roughly.


"Do i really Delilah? I mean they never found the 'man' you so describe. It was only you who saw it. No one else," She mused, a familiar smirk, playing over her lips. 


I felt my eyes grow wide, a small yelp of surprise and the angry replenishing itself, making my hands shaking in controlled age. She was the only person, I've told about that incident. I trusted her with my secret and she had to spit it back in my face? To go around spewing it to her "Friends"-- to the whole school as if she had the right to reveal my secret?




I shot her a sad smile, my fingers were tightening around cold metal. "I hope you found what you're looking for, Caroline, because, i hope your finally happy with yourself." My voice rang out and bounced of the white walls. I watched her right eye twitch and i shook my head.    


She's not happy with me.

Unfortunately, i could not find myself a simple satisfaction in this simple fact. Although she may be one of the people who teases me, she used to be my best friend. She used to be the i used to go for advice.  


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