After Lola's mother died her father because abusive. One day she had enough and ran away. In order to make a living Lola became a street fighter, she refuses to allow herself to feel weak again. Lola hasn't spoken since she was 6, the day her mother...
Hey little girl you know smoking kills But you don't really care Because they broke your heart
Lola's Pov
My alarm goes off, waking me from my nightmare. I sigh and hit the off button slightly too hard. I quickly pull my dark clothes on and complete my look with my black glasses that I don't really need.
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I don't bother with make up, knowing nobody will really look at me anyway. Plus the fact that I don't see the point in make up. It just makes me want to scratch my face off its so uncomfortable and I prefer to be a real person then a basic bitch that does stuff just to fit in with the other people. (A.N. No offence to people that wear make up. Lots of people have said things about this now. I just want to clarify. This is something to add to the character. She is someone who is only just starting to feelcomfortable with herself and how she looks. Although it isn't strictly stated in the book it is apart of her backstory that Iwill write in more detail when I rewrite this book. It is also to do with her perspective and outlook. I understand people wear makeup for different reasons and it means nothing about who they are. I'mdoing this just to clarify what this means. This is a character and this is a comment that js supposed to show more about her opinions and her experiences with people. ) After pulling on my shoes I shove my homework in my bag and leave the house.
On my walk to school I light one of the cigarettes in my bag. Loving the feeling as I inhale as it slightly burns my throat. I walk slowly, holding onto the few moments of peace I have before entering the hectic school building.
All too soon I reach school, I groan and drop my cigarette on the floor, stepping on it to put it out. I pull my long black hair down across my face to hide it before entering the dreaded building.
Instantly I'm suffocated by the crowd of people that I silently make my way through. I quickly make it to my locker and grab the books I need for first lesson, math, I sigh and make sure I have my homework. As soon as that's done I make my way to my class, taking my normal seat at the back of the class and start drawing while listening to music.
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