Here's an idea: you play the song when Ashley plays the song ;)

*

I managed to get through the rest of yesterday and today without any more confrontations. Home was unusually peaceful last night, but it's probably the calm before a shit storm that always finds its way back around to me. At least I was left alone for a solid twenty-four hours, though.

Unfortunately, the weather has shown me no sign of following suit and giving me a break, soaking me for the second day in a row. This time it was an unexpected shower during lunch when I took the time to go for a little walk outside on the school premises.

You never learn.

Thankfully I had some spare gym clothes.

I wasn't lying when I said I needed all those spare clothes stashed in my locker. It may be the first week of school, but everything has already fallen back into its regular routine.

My gym clothes were a lucky coincidence, however. Our beloved gym class was cancelled due to the downpour preventing us from running a mile outside. We were supposed to be doing fitness tests today, to gauge just how abhorrent we were at sport, and to give those who were fit a chance to gloat at the rest of us. I personally think the teachers just let us off because it was supposed to be our first PE lesson of the year and they hadn't worked up the motivation to move the class to the indoor gym as one would expect.

Ah, the joys of sport.

I also had a free period last lesson, so I used it to finish any work I had, now I can go home and take it easy. Maybe I'll watch a movie or two. At least fictional characters don't bully me.

I sigh in some form of contentment, only a year left until this place can kiss my ass goodbye, I can basically smell it. Four years of this torture and I can't wait to be rid of it. I empty all my remaining books into my locker and slam its door shut with a satisfying bang before sauntering out the school's main doors.

But then I realise that I'm behaving too comfortable and slip back into the quiet Ashley Taylor everyone doesn't know and doesn't care about.

So, I walk out of school, hoodie hiding my torso, hood over my head. I refrain from wetting my shoes in the puddles left in the aftermath of this typical English weather, only for a fat droplet of water falls smack bang onto my forehead.

Don't get me wrong, I love the rain, just not right now. I don't have the clothes to spare getting wet. And so, I continue prancing around puddles in a futile attempt to preserve my dryness, entirely wrapped up in the adventures of my mind as I ignore the remaining unenthusiastic students of this school exit the school premises.

I hear a monstrously loud sneeze from behind me and nearly fall over from the power of it, or simply from the fact that I tripped on a loose brick on the path. Who the hell sneezes that loud? Regaining my balance, and praying I haven't made a scene of myself, I oh so inconspicuously turn around to see who made the elephant impersonation.

Of course, it's him.

Obviously, the man cannot do anything without drawing an obnoxious amount of attention to himself. He makes eye contact with me, and before I can break it and pretend it never happened, he flashes me a small smile and begins walking in my general direction.

I instantly scowl once more, praying he isn't approaching me. When my obvious change in expression doesn't seem to faze him, I turn my head in the complete opposite direction and continue walking. Does he not have any better place to be? Is he following me? I'm sure he's got lots of other female options rather than to chase me.

I turn back once more and notice a smaller, curvier frame scurrying from the area he appeared, and bite back a laugh. Clearly, he had been. He's probably going to the bus too.

Deciding to give the clearest message that I don't want any social interaction, I plug in my earphones and hit play. Hopefully, that prevents any awkward conversation in the bus too.

What happened to his Lamborghini, you ask? Oh, don't worry it's there, obviously, the guy's bloody loaded. It's just gone for servicing. How do I know that? Well, my grade may be huge, but if it's something involving Mr Stone over here, everyone knows. Not to mention the surprise when he walked into the school car park last week, instead of driving in blaring his normal trashy music.

"Hey, wait up!"

RIP to my youth

And you could call this the funeral

I'm just telling the truth

And you can play this at my funeral

I roll my eyes and keep walking. If he isn't even going to address me by my name, there's really no point, it just can't be good.

"Nerd!" Once again, he grabs my arm and I yank it back.

"Don't touch me, or call me a nerd," I hiss. He looks slightly taken aback by my reaction but masks it quickly, and I feel a smidge of guilt. So, to seem a bit less bitchy (if you will) I pull out one earphone to listen to the bloke.

Might be a sinner and I might be a saint

I'd like to be proud but somehow I'm ashamed

Sweet little baby in a world full of pain

I gotta be honest I don't know if I could take it

Everybody's talking but what's anybody saying?

He clears his throat, "I haven't forgotten about this morning. I was just hoping that, well, maybe your day had improved marginally?"

I snort. Fat chance of that happening, dumbass. I instantly grimace after that, realising that the words had slipped out of my filter lacking mouth. I ignore that extra pang of guilt in my subconscious too, the one that's telling me I don't need to be so cold to a guy who's just being polite.

His eyes narrow, "I'm just trying to be nice."

I wince at that and bow my head, deciding to keep walking. I've been unnecessarily mean enough for today. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foo- "Ouch."

This is the second time I've walked into a chest akin to a wall today. Curse my luck.

I look up and immediately start panicking. Of course, it's the captain of our rugby team, Ryan. Also known as the guy who I impulsively kneed in the balls in front of an audience before school ended. And of course, he just must have well-known anger issues. And of course, he's that kid that always gets what he wants and can't stand rejection. And of course, I was the cursed individual who rejected him.

In my defence, all he wanted was the sex to prove he could get with any girl, no matter how 'frigid'.

Oh wait, and of course, he's with his posse of equally bratty teammates who are looking at me like a pack of wolves at cornered prey.

"So, Ashley, we never got to finish what we started before school ended last year. How about we pick up where we left off, eh?" The slimeball purrs seductively. But I see the malicious glint in his eyes and I know he's not talking about anything sexual. He wants compensation for his humiliation and he's not afraid to stoop low to get it. This boy can hold a grudge.

I begin looking around, trying to find a quick exit. Nothing. I'm standing at the entrance to the car park of this school. And if I don't leave soon, someone's going to be walking home all bruised and battered.

Parents usually teach their children not to hit others, especially for boys to not hit girls.

Mama, there was only so much I can do

Tough for you to witness, but it was for me too

I'm using white lighters to see

What's in front of me

But chivalry is dead, these boys adore humiliating and torturing me. They've been doing so for years, despite me steering clear of them for just as long. It must be a warped power complex that makes these imbeciles take pleasure in overpowering someone.

In a split second, I push past Ryan and start running as fast as my legs can take me, unwilling to get beat up today.

I know they're following me, and I try to convince myself that maybe they just wanted to talk; threats and all. However, I've already started running, and there's no going back now.

I round corners and continue to run, seeing an alleyway, I turn in. And jump onto the dumpsters, then up again, clambering up the building. I reach for windows and ledges to hoist myself up, almost slipping from the rainwater left on the windowsill, going as quickly as possible.

Panting, I'm at the top of this roof, and continue running. One thing I've learned from being endlessly chased is that when they're looking for a missing person or target, they never look up. Never. Even if they knew I was up here, they'd take too long climbing up.

I was naive and hopeful and lost

But then someone grabs my arm, "Ashley Taylor."

Shit.

I take a second to calm myself, I wouldn't allow anyone to see me be weak. I inhale deeply, effectively ridding myself of my flustered look.

I turn around, steeling myself, "Is this the first time you've called a girl's name?" I refuse to let him see me petrified.

No one can scare me.

The irritation never left his eyes, "Stop running."

"What, are you not used to chasing girls?"

"Ash-"

I smirk, and whisper, "Never."

I shake his grasp and turn on my heel to start running again, only to realise that the gap between this building and the next is larger than normal. I won't be able to make it.

What do I do? What do I do?

I look down. And start jumping down in the same manner I came up.

Hitting the floor, I look up to see him looking down at me in vague astonishment and move to run away.

But then another pair of arms restrict me from movement. I grunt as they pull me backwards.

I need a cigarette

More hands grab at me while I push back, attempting to overpower them. Naturally, my scrawny little self fails miserably. I'm a runner, not a fighter.

I'm thrown on to the floor and my earphone comes flying off. In all honesty, I'm surprised it didn't fall out earlier.

Someone kicks me in the gut, having me retching for breath, clutching my stomach, as the rest of them all stand around in sadistic amusement. I roll over to my side, clutching my abdomen in agony, moaning. Nausea invades my rationale, as I fight back the waves of bile attempting to drive its way up my throat. Head spinning, I close my eyes to relieve them of the discomfort of dizziness, pulling my glasses off my face and keeping them in my hand. I lie there, defeated as I wait for the bruises that are going to be gracing my being. Another foot pelts me in the back and I resist a cry. I feel two more kicks before they stop dead. I lie there in anticipation, dreading the rest to come. Seconds fly by and I grow more anxious, what's going on?

Rolling onto my back, I groan and feel my bones creak. But there's no one there staring back down at me, no eyes but uncomfortably familiar ones.

I blink rapidly, certain I'm not seeing right. I slap my glasses back onto my face for good measure. They're all gone. Where've they gone? I'm pulled up by Ethan and see figures running away, their sizes diminishing with distance. I wince as the already forming bruises begin to throb and notice one of the guys staggering away from the two of us, clutching his very clearly broken nose.

And suddenly I'm being dragged back, away from the scene. Surprised at the sudden strength pulling me, I follow suit, picking up my phone and earphones on the way.

Didn't he want to beat me up with the rest of them thirty seconds ago? Did he not chase me too? Why is he doing this?

I shiver, and whisper,

"I'm using white lighters to see

What's in front of me"

*

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