Chapter 2 Reason I survive

Freya's P.O.V

Now, I opened my eyes slowly, letting the unshed tears roll down my cheeks before I turned back to the mirror once again, to access the damage to my face. Nothing was broken, that much I was sure about, but the bruise was going to darken even further until it was a blue-black spot that stood out even in the dark. I had to make sure to hide it.

My skin looked as pale as a ghost, which made my blue eyes seem haunting. They seemed too big for my face. Combined with my hollow looking cheekbones, I pretty much looked like a walking-talking horror movie. My bangs covered most of my forehead, reaching past my brows and stopping just above my eyes. I knew I was no looker, but as the days went by, I had started to look even worse.

My ink black hair had once reached up to my waist in long delicate curls, back when my mother had still been alive. But now, I've had cut them short to my ears to save myself so much unwanted trouble. Because long hair was easier to grip, easier to pull and they hurt like hell when uprooted in chunks.

But it didn't matter how awful I looked; it wasn't like anyone would ever notice me. And neither did I want anyone to notice. I was a loner, a mere shadow at the back of the class; the one everyone was disgusted to even talk to. And I had no intention of changing that. I had no intention of coming into the limelight…ever.

Taking in a deep breath, I grabbed a concealer from the bathroom counter and put it on my face concealing the dark red bruise that I received last night and the tiny blue ones that I didn't even keep count of. I then brushed my hair back and came out of the bathroom to dress in a faded green hoodie over a crème coloured shirt with blue jeans that had nearly turned white from overuse. Walking downstairs on silent feet, I instinctively pulling the hood over my head so no one could grab my hair…before remembering that my father had already left the house.

Taking off the hood when I reached the living area, I found the mess my father had left on the couch and three empty bottles of whiskey on the coffee table. So I began cleaning the place before Julian could come downstairs. Even when I had been ready to faint from the pain last night, I had managed to clear out the broken shards of glass so that Julian wouldn't step on any pieces accidentally when he came to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Once I was done with cleaning, I began frying up two eggs and toasted a slice of bread on the same pan so Julian could eat breakfast. I had one egg and a slice of bread while I was preparing Julian's meal. It was all that was left inside the fridge. Fortunately, meals were one thing I didn't have to worry about much, because the restaurant where I worked was kind enough to provide me leftovers. Even though the rice sometimes turned out stale or the food sometimes had this smell…it was still edible. It was enough to fill our tummies for one meal.

"Is breakfast ready yet?" Julian asked as he came out of his room, his voice quiet. He was probably worried that our father was still inside the house, passed out on the couch.

"Yes!" I called back, wincing as my cheek stung, while putting his breakfast on to his plate and also getting the last of the orange juice out of the fridge. I checked to see if it was expired or not, and sighed in relief when I found it still fit for drinking.

"Did dad come home last night?" he asked quietly as he sat at the table, his big blue eyes sad yet curious.

I only nodded my head as I he ate silently, while I prepared his bag for school. I brought down my own bag and took out my wallet to see what was inside. My heart sank as I saw the two five dollar bills and a few changes I had left. But I tried my best to reassure myself. I might get a good tip at work today…right? Some kind man or woman might give me a good enough tip if I tried my best. Even another five would be enough! And then, I'll get my payment the day after tomorrow.

My job didn't pay much, but it was enough so that we could have daily meals on our table and it also helped me pay for my school. Julian's Kindergarten was a free Public School, so that was a big sigh of relief as well.

"Here you go." I handed Julian a five dollar bill. "Get something nice for lunch, okay? But remember to save up for today and tomorrow."

Julian took the money with a smile and went to put his dishes in the sink while I tidied up the table. With that, I headed towards the door with my bag swung over my shoulder. Julian was already out of the door waiting for me to catch up.

Sighing, I locked the door and headed to school; pushing my way through another gruelling day. Julian's Kindergarten and my school were only 5 minutes apart so it was another advantage. It also meant that I could keep an eye on him if needed.

"See you later, sis! Oh! And I'll be a little late; Ms. Lindsay said that she'll show us a movie with talking fishes in it." Julian said with wonder as he described Finding Nemo and I felt horrible for not being able to show him movies and cartoons that a kid his age should be watching. I could barely manage food and other supplies for our home with the income I made so paying for a TV was out of the question. Julian might be the only kid in class today who hasn't watched Finding Nemo yet.

"Alright!" I waved him goodbye with a kiss to his forehead and waited to see him enter the school building before I continued on to my school, Belfast Public High.

As I neared the gate, I saw people talking and laughing merrily in their own little groups that you can easily find in any high school. I didn't belong to any of these group and neither did I have any friends. I was a loner, the person everyone hated and stayed away from. So it's not like I have people lining up to be my friends in the first place.

"Move freak! You're blocking our way."

I balled my hands into fists as that annoying voice came from behind me. The voice of the person who has made my high school life a living Hell. The school's most beloved bad boy and player.

Cameron MacGyver.