(This story is under construction.)
Edited ☑️
I curse as I look down at the handcuffs. These damn things were cutting off my circulation.
"Em- oh what have you done now?" My mom
asks, sighing at the last word once she realizes the state I'm in.
I smile sheepishly at her.
"Hey mom." I say anxiously as I fidget my hands, ignoring her question like if I act like it didn't happen it will just go away.
She glares at me causing my body to automatically shrink away.
"What have you done?" She repeats, stepping closer causing me to step back.
"I was framed, framed I tell you!"
___________________________________
"Emma! Emma!" Someone shouts my name to get my attention.
I close my eyes and sigh softly under my breathe, my head already throbbing before 10am.
"Yes?" I ask as I turn around and face my aunt, maybe a little too harshly.
If she notices she doesn't react as she keeps throwing a polite (fake) smile in my direction.
"You forgot your lunch." She explains, still smiling, while holding it out to me through the car window.
My shoulders slump before I begin to walk back over to the car and grab the bag softy.
"I love your hair by the way. I never thought red would be your color." She compliments me.
Like you know enough about me to know what my 'color' is.
I nod awkwardly not sure how to take that.
Being socially awkward has its downsides. I always feel like I'm suppose to talk more, give more effort to be in the conversation. It seems like I'm never good enough for myself or anyone else.
Back to the situation at hand, I almost never get complements. I'm too busy fucking everything up and scaring everyone away.
"It works so well with your black hair. Anyways, have a good day at school." She continues to make conversation, unaware of my awkwardness.
I force a smile upon my lips before turning back around, desperate to be rid of this feeling of doubt.
The door to the school is cold and metal, reminding me of the jail cell back in Michigan, causing me to shiver when I recall the memories that took place back in my hometown.
It shocks my fingers as I go to open it forcing me to recoil and bring my arm quickly to my chest, my mouth dropping slightly in shock.
Shaking off the bewilderment, I go to open the door again and brace myself for the slight pain that's about to be inflicted.
Nothing happens.
Second times a charm.
I, somehow, make my way to the office and force myself to walk up to the counter, instead of running away and skipping school altogether.
"Emma Black." I say to the lady when she looks at me with raised eyebrows.
She nods and taps onto her nosy keyboard with her fake neon nails attached to her fingers.
"Emma Black. The girl caught with meth inside her backpack at an IHOP?" The lady asks raising her eyebrow at me, once again.
I shrug. "Yeah I guess."
YOU ARE READING
The Lost Boys
General Fiction"Do not touch the lost boys. The Lost Boys are off limits. No one is allowed talk about them behind there back. No one is allowed to judge them. No one is allowed to look them in the eye. No one is allowed to challenge them. Those are the rules...
