A Year And A Half To Go

Basically, Welcome To The Life Of Sam Nelcy.

Sam, an immaculate girl rapidly approaching womanhood, sat alone in the familiar oak tree, gazing over the never ending fields with her guileless slate crystals. Her royal blue hair danced lightly in the autumn breeze, tickling against one cheek as she sighed with the never ending thoughts, resting her cheek against one hand as she hummed "The Scientist" to herself. She wore an ashen shirt that left her lily-white arms bare and a pair of turquoise jeans that showed off the shape of her body. Her coiffure flowed in a sapphire torrent past her shoulders, complementing her childlike platinum visage. An elaborate collage of tattoos of her childhood video games snaked its way down her shoulder and to her elbow. For a moment, she absorbed herself in these thoughts, of her life and the bullies.

All she had to do was add a little weight to the end of the branch. Just a little, and she'd fall to her death. Tears poured down her cheeks and some slid into her mouth, tasting of salt. She shook her head and sighed yet again. She wasn't brave enough to do it. Not today, anyways. She slowly climbed down the oak, careful to not rip her heather gray tee. Tomorrow she would have to endure another unforgiving day in her personal hell: high school. The last several months in this new school had been chaos. The second she stepped foot on the campus and took a breath, it's as if she had alerted a pack of hungry dogs.

She had gotten made fun of for everything, down to her baggy shirts to her sea blue hair. Mum and Dad knew all about it, yet they thought it was a phase. Sam had no friends, and more enemies than ever imagined. The garage door slammed behind her and she slowly walked up the stairs to her secluded bedroom. She sat on her plush window seat, watching the Nevada sun set in the distance. She wished nothing more than for life to be a little easier, or to just stop caring.

 Screaming erupted from the main floor of the house. Mum and Dad are at it again, she thought. She quickly slammed her bedroom door and curled into a tight ball in her walk-in closet. The rasta coloured ear buds were quickly jammed into her ears and Avenged Sevenfold blared through them. Sam hated hearing them fight all of the time. She knew they would get a divorce, but she didn't want that. Yet there was nothing she could do.

***

Her smart phone chirped it's usual monotone alarm. Six o'clock in the morning and it was time to get ready for school. Her muscles ached from sleeping on the hard wood floor in her closet, but she stood up and picked out a black baggy shirt and skinny jeans from her mostly empty closet. She walked quietly to the bathroom and ran a brush through her light navy hair. Her side-bangs cascaded perfectly over her forehead  and off to the right. She took out her contacts that she had stupidly fallen asleep with and put on her black rimmed glasses. She sighed and flung the charcoal coloured bag over her shoulders and grabbed her car keys.

Her mum and dad were fighting yet again at the kitchen table, and Sam quietly pulled an Oreo pop-tart out of the cupboard and waved a goodbye to them, even though they were too indulged in their own problems to notice. She backed her Mustang out of the driveway and headed off to school. It had only taken ten minutes to get ready, so she would have enough time to do her makeup in the parking lot before school.

Tonopah High, where Sam's ultimate hellhole thrived. She quickly did her black eyeliner as she carefully watched the cheer squad glare at her from outside of her car. Sam put her makeup back in the bag and tossed it behind her into the back seat. She pulled her almost-indigo hair out from behind her so it flowed down her chest, almost as if it were a waterfall. She stepped out of the car and locked it behind her, careful not to make any eye contact as she half jogged into the school and to her first block, Chemistry. Mr. Whitman glanced up from grading papers and gave me a smile.

"Hello, Miss Nelcy," he put his pen down and got out of his seat. "How are you this fine Wednesday morning?"

"Same as every other morning, Mr. Whit." He softly closed his classroom door. There was still a half hour before class even started.

"Still having problems with those bullies?" He slowly made his way to the back of the classroom, where I sat alone. His old Nike sneakers squeaked against the yellowed tile and echoed from the lack of students. Sam nodded at him. He ruffled her bangs and smirked at her annoyed expression.

"You're different. In a small town like this, they don't like different. Even so, do not change who you are. There are so many student here who used to be like you but forced themselves to fit in. That is no way to live, and don't you do it." My eyes welled up with tears, but I choked them back.

"Sam," his voice was soft and comforting. "You have a year and a half to go. You can do it, and then you'll be done with them." She leaned over and hugged him, the smell of soap drifting into her nose.

"Thank you so much Mr. Whit." He gave her a soft pat on the shoulder and returned to his desk. The warning bell for class rang, and a few students piled into the classroom. Sam pulled out a thick sketch book and doodled little cartoons into it. The second bell rang, and then the late bell. The chattering of my class had reached it's peak, and it almost got bothersome. Mr. Whitman asked for the class to settle down, and of course they didn't. She felt the panic of being in such a filled room settle in, and tried to focus on drawing. It became unbearable when she felt the presence of someone behind her. His shadow drifted over her work, and his beefy hand slammed down on it. He formed his hand into a fist, ripping the paper out of the seam and crumpling it in one swift movement. He laughed a stuffy nosed snort and expertly tossed it into the trashcan near the front of the room. Mr. Whit told him to take his seat, and he sneered back at Sam. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Only a year and a half to go.

Author's Note

*Still Working On Grammar. Should I Add More Description..?*