"Sorry," I swallow. "For disobeying you, being antisocial, unhelpful and insightful, and having a horrid work ethic and little empathy and commitment to what my Mum is feeling and how hard it must be for her to put the clothes on the radiators without my help."

There's a hint of sarcasm in my words but you can't hear it in my tone alas, my Dad's so incapacitated that he probably thinks that I'm a talking hotdog. I wouldn't be suprised. He probably drank the whole bottle of wine.

"It's Mummy. Don't call her Mum. Or are you so high and mighty, now that you're older? Remember, you're not an adult until you're eighteen." My Dad says something along the lines of this, except less articulate and with more slurring.

I can't wait until I can leave for good - with no legal complications, because I'm pretty sure they won't allow me to leave before 18... It seems too good to be true.

"Darling!" He shouts to my Mum. "Your daughter thinks that she's an adult now and doesn't need to listen to us. But of course it's all my fault!"

My Dad always made out that he was the center of the blame so that my Mum would redirect the blame to someone else (I wonder who...). "No it isn't." I say gently.

"Well, you always say it is. It's always my fault!" He shouts.

"No one said it's your fault!" I exclaim. I was this close to snapping. I doubt he was even hearing what I was saying. "Oh, so it's your fault! Finally! Whoohoo! You own up to it! You're right... It's all... Your... Fault."

I hate how he phrased that. I hate how he twisted my words around. I hate the satisfied smirk he gave as my Mum started shouting at me. "She's so lazy! She hasn't even come here to help me!" She shouts.

"I know! She's a lazy cow isn't she? The arrogant little..." He swears. "Go and help your Mother." Finally, he lets go of my sore wrist and I rush to my Mum, only to find that the work is done. I can't be bothered to be angry, so I just go back upstairs again and hide under my bed covers. I fall asleep to the sound of my parents arguing and complaining about me.
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"Geez, you're quiet aren't you?" The girl sitting next to me asks. "Ghost, right?". I nod - going by the nickname is easier, besides, it sounds kind of cool (which is kind of sad that I think that). Laughing, the girl looks away from me and writes some notes in her book. My parents' taunts and words pound in my head.

Worthless.
Nothing.
Useless.
Mistake.
Cow.
Lazy.
Arrogant.

I take a deep breath. "Miss, may I be excused?" My teacher looks me up and down. My hands are shaking, my palms are sweating and my throat's closing up. Thankfully, she gives me an apologetic look and allows me to leave quietly - not typical of most of my teachers. I used to be the favourite, but now I'm just the quiet girl, who's friendly enough when you talk to her but hardly anyone does.

I walk down the corridor silently and head to the bathroom. I don't bother going in a stall - it's empty anyway, so I just stare into the mirror.

I'm used to not feeling emotions. But every so often, when I do, I have panic attacks. I keep on ruminating and obsessing over everything. I always feel as if I'm going crazy and no one else can see it. I hold so many secrets, that when I overhear new unheard things, horrible pieces of gossip, I feel as if I'm loosing my mind and the whole world seems too bright. It scares me. It really does.

I know too much for my own good.

Worthless.
You're nothing, you're a mistake.
You should go.
No one would notice.
They don't care about you anyway.

I'm hyperventilating. My breathing is too quick. My head is pounding and I'm scared of how dark my thoughts are and I'm scared of the truth they hold.

Run.

My heart pounds. I try to calm myself down. I count to ten. It doesn't work.

"My name is Summer Alex Hales. AKA Ghost. I'm 16. I attend East River High." I start saying, in a monotone, hugging my sides. "I'm not fading away. I'm not fading away. I am fine. I am okay. I'm okay."

Sometimes, I get really scared that I'm just going to disappear, and no one will know that I left or that I even existed in the first place.

I have a method that keeps me sane. I've never told anyone about it. Whenever people ask me what I want to do, I lie. I come up with some job that impresses them. But my heart aches to be free. I dream of running away to an untouched forest and just darting from tree to tree, isolated. It's unrealistic. But that sort of freedom makes me happy. Everyone would leave me alone. I would be Ghost, the girl who runs with the wind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm at my next class, which is English, when the person sitting next to me faces me. "Hey, you were the girl who left the Business class looking all panicked right?". Except they don't say that, because it's just my wishful thinking. They don't even turn to face me. Don't get me wrong, I don't like having pressure put on me, but I would like a little attention.

"Attention class!" My English teacher shouts. "Unless, of course, you want a detention with me after school?" The room falls silent. The only noise is the sound of the ticking clock at the front.

"Good." Our teacher smiles. "For our new subject, we are studying literature. I am going to assign a group project of groups of two where you will present on a character or theme in Virginia Woolf's Mrs Dalloway. You have three weeks."

My head perks up. I had been planning on reading the book a while ago, but never got to doing it. "Do we get to choose the groups?" A student calls out.

"What did I just say?" Our teacher shakes her head. "Your groups are on the board."

Leaning forwards, I try to find my name on the board. I'm paired with Will Nox.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've never spoke to Will before, I've seen him before though, but it's kind of hard not to. He's the golden boy, the sporty boy, the flirty boy, whereas I'm just Ghost. But at least they don't call me Air or Silent Girl. Ghost, in retrospect, is a pretty cool nickname. But they only call me that because they can't remember my name. But it's not like anyone talks about me anyway.

I walk over to Will and sit next to him because we're kind of expected to go into our groups. Will frowns, then looks at me and then looks to the board and then looks back at me again. "You're Summer?" He looks shocked, his mouth agape and he runs his hand through his perfect golden hair.

I fake acting shocked. "You're the playboy everyone talks about?" Then my face falls slack and I roll my eyes.

"Fair enough. I was just expecting..." He begins.

"A blond cheerleader? Stereotypical much?" I frown. "Feel free to call me Ghost. Or not. Your call." I try to be social, but I'm talking to Will Nox, and oh God I just insulted him, why did I insult him-

"Why Ghost?" He asks, his blue eyes sparkle with curiosity. I shrug and tug at my sleeves. Scoffing, he looks away and talks to the person sitting at his right for a few seconds. Turning around again, he looks at me. My heart almost melts - don't get me wrong, I don't like him, but it's hard not to. He's the golden boy for a reason!

"I'm called Will, but you can call me any time." He winks. I can't help but laugh at his terrible pick-up line.

"Here's my number." He passes me a sheet of paper. "For the project, of course." For some reason, I feel a little disappointed as he says that. It wpuld be nice to just be a cliché teenage girl for once and have some admirers. I tuck it into my pocket and try to give one of the smiles that I was always able to do- but it hurts and I gulp down my negative thoughts. The bell rings.

"Meet me tomorrow, after school at the library." He says it more like a command than a question, but anyway I reply.

"Sure thing. See you then." I adjust my glasses nervously. Will gives me another one of his signature winks and I watch him leave the class, already talking to his friends.

What have I got myself into?
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Hi! What did you think of this chapter?

The song I recommended is one of my favourite songs (Run by Snow Patrol, an alternative rock band). The chorus and the bridge are my favourite parts! Feel free to listen to it, if you like.

Comment, vote, quote and recommend my story if you want to! Thanks for reading! 💛

~CatlikeG