Oh My Freaking Goodness!!! Money Money Money!!! Its all they THINK about!!! It's al they TALK about!!! Its all they FIGHT about!!! From when I came home, they were already screaming at each other. 5 hours STRAIGHT...
I'm gonna IGNORE them. That's what I do EVERYDAY... Its kinda hard but... It's inescapable...
Ok. To blot my mind, I'm gonna summarize what happened in school today:
Actually, nothing did. We had the usual cheerleading practice, despite the monthly tests. It was boring. We just jumped around doing our usual formations. Well, Betty fell off and nearly sprained her ankle. That was slightly entertaining... =)
Oh, the test. It was so DULL. We never studied of course. Me? A cheerleader? Study?? hahaha you gotta be kidding me. So we just copied off the nerds. There's nothing wrong with it anyway. Sharing IS caring, after all... =)
The teacher doesn't care of course. I mean, why should they? We're the JOCKS & CHEERLEADERS! There's almost like a freaking HALO above our heads!!! Hmm mm... I wouldn't describe ALL of us as angelic... Most of the guys are immature and totally CHILDISH! *roll eyes*
Like today, during History, Jake (King Of Basketball?) tripped the Girl. THe weird Emo one. Although it was kinda funny, it was mean and so unnecessary!!! He even High-fived Mark!!! *roll eyes*
That poor girl. Her face... It was so RED... She was obviously totally HUMILIATED... I mean, she kinda asked for it... But she doesn't really deserve it...
She never stands up for herself... Why is that? I mean, if I got bullied, i wouldn't just shut UP. I would SCREAM at them. Ask THEM to SHUT THEMSELVES UP.
Well, it's kinda her own problem now. NOT mine. Pity is normal. As Arissa used to say,:'We cheerleaders are ONE. No pity to freaks.' A strict warning.
I cant ignore THAT.
Oh GOD. I think they're throwing stuff... Wait. I'll go check.
WHAT THE HELL???!!! What is THIS?!
I'm crying. I'm crying. I can't stop crying. You know what I SAW? What my eyes SAW?
Mum lying on the floor.
Her blonde hair tangled. Covering her beautiful face.
Dave with bloody fists. Glaring at my mother.
My small, petite, and so fragile mother.
I immediately flew down to my mother's side. I pushed back her curls.
I freezed.
My mother? What? What? WHAT??!!
WHAT THE HELL???!!!!
The woman who lay by my knees were unconscious.
Her beautiful face was bruised at the cheek and blood was trickling down her forehead.
Yes. BLOOD.
I was too shocked to feel anything.
I turned to look at Dave. He was shaking uncontrollably. Staring at his hands.
His bloody hands.
He turns to look at me. I can sense the fear and guilt in his eyes.
Nothing moves.
Mum groans.
Quick as a flash, Dave ran inside his room and picked up his packed bag. (WHAT?!) Avoiding us, he ran to the front door and left with a loud slam.
I am shocked.
He left.
He left.
He left.
Mum groaned again.
In an instance, my brain awoke. I looked down at my mum. I had to help her. She's my one and only relation. I MUST help her. No matter what.
I quickly ran to the kitchen and fetched a piece of cloth. I ran back to her and pressed the cloth onto her wound. I heard from somewhere that could stop the bleeding.
As i was doing that, mum regained consciousness and her eyes fluttered open.
'Don't call the police Marrie, it's not worth it...'
'But I have to! He hurt you mum, he HURT you.'
'No. Take me to my bed and bring me a bottle of vodka. I need to rest and think this out.'
'No! MUM!!! You CAN'T drink! Not in a state like this!!! You don't HAVE to think this out. It's what we can see!!!'
'Marrie. Please.' It came out as a plead. 'You know I can't do anything now... You know its the only thing I can do...'
Tears came to her eyes.
How could I say no to that?! Her hypnotic hazel eyes were too much.
I took her to bed and laid her down on their... No. HER bed. She smiled faintly at me. She was very pale.
I went to the kitchen and open the cupboard and looked for the ancient vodka mum kept for 'emergencies' such as now. I opened it and tipped half the contents out. That was the least I could do.
When I went back inside her room, she was crying. Heartbreaking sobs that chilled me to the spine.
I gave her the vodka bottle. She said nothing about the half emptied contents and started drinking right away.
I sighed and backed out of the room.
Oh my GOD. I... I'm... I'm to tired to write anymore. I think I'm suffering from shell-shock.
I'm crying. I still am.
WHAT CAN I DO?
Ok. To read the last post, Emo, here's the link=
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