Pregnant For My Bully

Amelia Forbes Mondays, for me, were like a restart of my routine, mind-numbing, perpetually dull life. It was an endless cycle of boredom, my life, beginning everyday with the rickety, old and faulty alarm, which sat atop the nightstand beside my bed, waking me up at 6:30, thirty minutes too early. Then, it was in the bathroom till it clocked seven—not that I spent thirty minutes taking a shower, though. Sometimes, I fall asleep there.  Next, after that, was to pull on a somewhat presentable cloth and brush my blonde hair till it shone, before going down to meet Nana, my grandma, for breakfast, communicating through sign language, because, well, she was deaf, kissing her goodbye and then leaving for school.  

Jason Davenport Leaning back against one of the upholding pillars behind the school, I stuck a hand into my jacket pocket, the fingers of my other hand holding, loosely, onto the burning stick of cigarette between them. Where the hell was she? I wondered, casting a brief gaze to the watch around my wrist. It was three o'clock already. She knew she was to meet up with me immediately after classes, but here she was wasting my time, like waiting on her was all I had to do the entire day. She'll get it when she eventually shows up, that's for sure, I thought, with a frown, raising the cigarette to my lips. Taking a short drag, I dropped my hand and blew the smoke out in two, oddly shaped rings. 

Amelia Forbes The next day, I arrived at school a lot earlier than I normally did, my new tactic at avoiding Jason, who was a chronic late comer. As soon as I got to school, I geared right into the homeroom, making sure to keep my head down, so Kimberly didn't spot me, signed my name and took my seat at the far end beside the window. I was the only one present in the room-pretty much everyone had lives more exciting than I did-giving me the comfort to do whatever I wanted. Like eating the sandwich Nana had made me this morning just before I left for school. Leaning back into my seat, I took a bite of the sandwich, my attention on the content of the phone in my hand. A text message from Benson popped up at the top as I scrolled through it. At once, I tapped the message.I'm on my way to school, and I'm not picking Katie up today, for once, phew. Want me to pick you up? It read.Tapping the keys on my keyboard, I replied, I'm already at school :).What

Amelia ForbesEvery day that I had to see Jason got me more and more upset than I could take. Pushed me further toward the wall. I didn't know if I could wait for the remainder of the hundred and ninety days before I saw him no more. I wasn't sure if I could contain myself any longer. Eventually, sooner or later, I was going to snap and probably do something, most likely, not beneficial to me. But after the incident in his car last week, I think I wouldn't mind.Yes, I feared Jason, but there was a limit to everything. Even to my fear. After what he'd done on Thursday last week, after he'd spoken and acted with so much hate and scorn, I couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to his bullying. If maybe, all along, it wasn't really bullying out of boredom or habit, but bullying borne out of pure hatred. And I couldn't help but fear for my life. My safety. So, I decided to steer clear of him, by all means. And even if I had to interact with him, it'd be one

Amelia Forbes It was official. Parties just weren't my thing. Jason's party was fun, actually, for people who liked parties, that is, but personally, I couldn't see the fun in loud noises, people screaming on top of their voices in the name of talking, dirty dancing, drinking too much alcohol and puking thereafter. It just wasn't my idea of fun.So, I was already preparing to leave without telling Jason. All I had as my biggest hurdle was sneaking out, which wasn't so much of a hurdle-seeing the huge crowd present at his party, it was easy to blend in or get lost. Finding my way home wasn't going to be much of a problem either-I was good with directions, sorta, and when I was in Jason's car, I'd done well to note the way around. I was currently engaged in an uninteresting conversation with a flame haired guy whom I wasn't sure of his name but was certain he was a senior too. He was hitting on me, and failing miserably at it, judging by his poor choice of