I got sent to detention again. For the usual reason; I am always talking back to Mr. Martin because I corrected him about today’s subject, the Holocaust.  This is a totally stupid reason.

I see Scott Taylor in the front of the classroom. I never thought I would see him here. I know it’s him from his hair; Scott has blonde hair. His haircut is his signature; I love that his hair is a little shaved in the back and cut to have bangs to the middle of his forehead.

 I feel my phone vibrate, I got a text message. I try to hide it under my desk. I am able to hide it successfully long enough to read the sender and the most important part. It was from my aunt.

Lizzie, grandma lost the battle and just passed away. Call me when you can, love you.

“Ms. Mathews put the phone away,” Ms. Goodwin says.

I put my phone back in my pocket and pull my hood over my head.

“Hood off Lizzie, you know the rules,” Ms. Goodwin states.

My life seems to get better and better, my dad beats me and will today when he finds out that I got detention again, Grandma is dead, and I am on the verge of expulsion, this school doesn’t like people who are smart and know things to begin with. I get it almost every day.

My aunt is in the process of becoming my legal guardian, even though I only have 3 more years until I am 18, she and I want me to get away from the abuse of my dad.

I should be in honors class but because I live in the projects they expect me to be dumb, smoke, do drugs, and sell drugs. Unlike the stereotypes of people who live there I am one who doesn’t do any of those things. I have almost done them, but music saved me.

My aunt is in the process of becoming my legal guardian, even though I only have 3 more years until I am 18, she and I want me to get away from the abuse of my dad.

Nobody knows that I play the guitar my dad passed down to me before my mom and sister, Casey, died. I leave it at my grandma’s house so dad doesn’t take his grief out on it like he does with me. But it looks like I have to find someplace else to hide it. I hope I can hide it at my aunt’s house. If not then I’m screwed.

I have to try not to show that I am crying, out of the slits between my fingers I see Scott looking at me. Why is he looking at me, what is his deal? I have a feeling that he might tell the whole school that I cried in detention. I am really scared. I can’t be made fun of anymore; it will push me over the edge. I have already had suicidal thoughts, I can’t have anymore. I feel like I should go through with it but that is how Casey went out. In the note she left she told me to be stronger than she was. I have to, for my sister.

It is ten minutes until the bell rings, and I am dreading having to leave school, right now I would rather be here or anywhere except home.

The bell rings and I dash out.

“Lizzie, wait up,” I hear.

“Scott Taylor? What do you want?” I ask after turning around.

“Do you want a ride home?” he offers.

“No thanks, I’ll take the bus,” I turn back around and start walking out the door.

“Who died?” He asks.

I stop in my tracks and turn around.

“How do you know somebody died?”

“Because I have had the same look when I was little.”

I walk toward him and look him in the eye.

“Why do you care? Do you want to make me more of a freak than I am?”

“No, believe it or not, I am not who I pretend to be. So would you like a ride?”

I look at him a minute.

“Sure,” I smile my crooked smile.

We both walk out into the south parking lot of the school.

I throw my backpack in the back seat of his red mustang.

He throws his car in reverse and we leave the school.

The End

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