Battle Scars

17 year old Emily Banks is bullied by everyone. Her family, her school, people online... They all hate her. She gets pushed against lockers, smacked, and kicked, and no one seems to care. Until, her bully starts to notice her scars, and her smile. Her beautiful smile, the one he has so ruthlessly taken away from her. Can Emily's bully save her, before it's too late?

*trigger warning*

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2. Chapter 2

Emily's POV

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Today was Monday, the start of a horrible new school week. High school sucks. People always scream rude names at me, tell me to kill myself etc. If they knew how much it affected me, would they stop? This was not some joke anymore.

Sighing, I swung my bare feet out of my bed, groaning at the frigid air. I finally push the duvet off of my warm body, and get out of bed.

One of the only things that gives me pleasure in this hellhole is my room. Whenever I'm upset or just need to think, I chill in here.

My walls are painted a simple black/white theme, my bedspread and pillows matching. One half of my room's walls are covered in posters, The 1975, All Time Low, Mayday Parade, Fall Out Boy..... I'm a punk/alternative freak. Also in my room, a big vinyl player, a ceiling to floor mirror, and my favorite spot ever.... my window seat overlooking the garden. I spend hours here every day just listening to music and thinking.

Grabbing my outfit for the day, a pair of black high waisted jeans to cover my scars, and a white long sleeved baseball tee. I really don't care what I look like anymore.

I walk into the bathroom, sucking in a deep breath as I face the monster in the mirror. My green eyes look extra ugly today, in my opinion. The long hazelnut hair I despise so much is hanging in knotted clumps down my back. Sighing, I pick up my brush and start to battle the tangles in my hair. As I reach my arm up to stroke through my hair one last time, I catch sight of my scars.

Why am I so ugly? I can see why no one wants me here anyways, I'm just a waste of space.

My eyes start to water as I stare myself down in the mirror. I reach into the cabinet under the sink and grab my best friend. My razor. The tears silently slide down my cheeks as I cross the silver blade across my wrists. Eight, nine, ten.

I arrive at school after throwing my hair up, adding some mascara and lip tint, and caking foundation onto my sliced wrist. I stumble walking into school, looking behind me and seeing the one and only Calum Hood pulling his leg back. I bend down to pick up a loose paper that managed to slip out of my binder when Calum shoves me to the ground. By now people have noticed, but no one says anything. "What the hell" I mutter as I start to grab my books. "Excuse me?" Says Calum. Shit.

I stand up and cast my eyes to the ground, trying to avoid his gaze. "I don't appreciate it when people ignore me, slut. What did you say!?" Calum yells getting aggravated. "N-n-nothing I didn't say anything C-c-calum." I respond starting to panic. "Whatever you say, princess" Calum responds smirking at me. I don't understand this boy at all.

I walk to my third period class, I missed the first two because of Calum. Great. I have English with Mr. Headrick, my favorite class. Too bad I have to share it with Luke and Ashton.

As I sit down I see a dozen papers scattered around my desk. I pick one up and flatten it out, tears brimming in my eyes at the word.

Whore

I scoop up the rest of the papers and throw them in the bin, turning around and seeing a laughing Ashton and Luke.

I turn my gaze to my wrists, some of the foundation has rubbed off. I pull my sleeves down a little more, hoping to hide my secret. Mr. Hedrick is still no where to be seen, so cautiously I take out my phone. My notifications have gone wild in the past hour. What's going on?

Scattered along my lock screen, are pictures of someone's blade.

Emily should just kill herself already. Everyone hates her anyways.

A tweet from @LukeHemmings . This time, I can't stop the tears. One slips down my cheek and hits my phone screen. I power off my phone and storm out of the classroom, grabbing my bag.

As I was turning the corner, I bump into someone's stomach. "I'm so sorr-" I start, but he cut me off "Watch where you're going, bitch." Ashton spits. He slaps my books out of my hands, but one get caught on my wrist, drawing more blood from this morning.

At first, I smile. The blood drips down my arm and hits the cold school floor. But then, I realize who I'm with. I look at Ashton quickly who is staring at my revealed wrist, with a shocked expression on his face. I reach down for my books, and run.

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