One

Oneee.

For once, the scrap of wood that we called a door was locked. With a little groan, I pulled the old lounging chair from next to the door and hopped onto the seat, balancing myself with the back. “Key,” I muttered, moving one hand from the chair to the trimming around the doorway. “Come out, come out wherever the f**k you are.”
My hand hit something sharp and I yanked it back, causing me to loose my balance. Tumbling backwards, my foot snagged the side of the chair and pulled it out from under my other foot, making it collide with my stomach just after I hit the ground.
“Miss?” A voice called, as I was struggling to sit up and push the chair off me. Unable to turn around, I shot a sharp, ‘get the f**k out of my yard, kid,’ back, and shoved the plastic heap off of my tummy.
Halloween was about the worst day to leave your house in this part of the city- by three o’clock, the streets had been full of the high school kids with their beer smuggled in brown paper bags, and by six the college students decided they wanted in on the party as well.
It was the same nearly every year, my mother went out to act like she was twenty again and f**k God knows who, while good ol’ Avery got to come home from her shift at McDonalds, put on a skimpy skirt, and ring the doorbells of perverted old men, who usually spiked the candy.
Screw this, there was no way I was climbing on that chair again. Lifting myself from my butt, I grabbed the chair in both hands and raised it over my head, smashing it down on the door when my arms began to shiver. The door opened immediately, I fell forward onto the doorstep, my head landing on the shag-carpet of my living room.
S**t! Scrambling up, I kicked the door closed with the heel of my foot and stumbled through the tiny hallway, into the bathroom. The light was already on, though it was dull from the thick coating of dust over the bulb.
Did it rip?! Rubbing off whatever was covering the mirror, I wet the same sleeve and rubbed at my cheek, smearing my foundation until you could see the actual color of my skin, as well as the faint pink lines stretching from the corners of my mouth to nearly the bone of my jaw.
Leaning forward into the mirror, I rubbed some more of the foundation off, wincing when a tiny scab fell off from the mark, and examined my smile more closely. No blood, that was a good thing, and no rips on the outside. That was just the outside, though- last time I’d thought I was safe based on the outside appearance, the inside had been torn and the stitches had almost been ripped out.
No, that hadn’t been fun. Hurt like a b***h, too.
I sighed and turned the cold water knob on the sink, making sure it ran clean before placing my hands together and letting the water fill up inside them. Instead of splashing it up, I leaned down and dunked my face into it, before removing my hands and letting the water fall.
There were no towels, anywhere. I scribbled it down on the crumpled sheet of paper stuck to the cupboard and switched the light off, turning into the door directly next to the bathroom. Pulling a bobby pin from my hair, I shoved it into the lock and twisted it around until it clicked open, and pushed the door forward just enough to scoot through, before slamming and locking it.
My room was the cleanest room in the house, no doubt. The carpet was a dull brown and it was stainless, while the walls were just light purple splattered with the dried remains of paintballs. Of course, there were a few beer cars and a pile of barbed wire laying in the corner, but that had to real relevance to the cleanliness of the room.
Grabbing my skinny jeans off of my dresser, I slid them on over my shorts and tugged at the frayed rips at the knees. Next was a simple white shirt, I grabbed the dullest razor I could find and slid it across the middle of the shirt, until I had formed two gashes right over my stomach. The black suspenders connected to my pants went over my shoulders, and my black trainers went over my feet before I headed out the door.
The past two Halloweens, I’d left my face completely blank of makeup and let everyone see my smile. Compliments on it, they all think it’s makeup. I just frown and nod, before walking away.
I’m not even sure how I got it. Three years ago, I’d practically gotten the s**t knocked out of me by someone, in the bathroom at my middle school. They had a knife, I remember that, and they were pretty bad at using it. Kept missing, every time they lunged forward. Finally, I got the knife from them and pushed it into their stomach. After that, I can’t remember anything, until the hospital and the cops.
The girl was dead, stabbed multiple times in the stomach, and her throat was slashed completely around. Her mouth had been cut up to her ears.

Author's Note

Kinda sucks.

Reviews

[Rebecca]

Though I don't quite understand where your story's going right off hand (like, what the plot of the story is), it's only the first chapter so totally no big deal there. I liked it though. I can definatly see how much further you've come in your writing skills. So keep it up! Looking foward to chapter two. =)

[-His Jane Doe-]

I personally don't think it sucks, yet again, I loved it the first time too. I love reviewing peoples edited writing, because I know what happens in the end, sorta ;D