𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐀 | k. murdoch

𝟖| 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈

I DO NOT OWN ANY ZARA LARSSON SONGS

The italicized words are the words I replaced to make the song make sense.

The lunch bell rang, breaking me from my trance. I stood up abruptly, worried that someone will see me. I fixed my leather Pink Ladies jacket and the golden belt that got shoved to my right side. I pulled out my compact mirror, wiping away smudged mascara, reapplying some more and fixing my hair. Once I was proud of my appearance, I grabbed my fallen books and stepped out from the bleachers.

"Ouch! Watch it Putz!" I heard Sonny complain.

"I didn't even do anything!" Putzie said. I heard the boys talking, joking and playing around. I smiled up at the bleachers, stepping out from my place, and making my way away from them. I don't think I can handle being around them. Especially Kenickie. I practically messed his senior year all up. God, I always do this.

I decide to walk home. No one cares if I'm at school or getting killed in some back alley. Not even my parents. My mother tried to care, but she's always too beat up to bat an eye in my direction. Sometimes, I want throw up at her appearance. My father really does beat us up. My mother takes the most.

There was once where I rushed in front of her, trying to block a blow from my father when she threatened to call the cops if he laid a finger on me. He hit me anyways, not really caring. It was the worst pain I've ever felt. He would always be loving at first, then yell at us, then hit us, then leave, then come home and act like it never happened.

Thinking about it made me break down on the street, right there. Nothing really stopped me from letting my words come out in a melodic tune, but I found that it helped.

"One Mississippi, you're here, lovin' me with your whole heart," I saw my father, giving me my car or just not hitting me.

"And two Mississippi, we scream to watch each other fall apart," My father yelling at me over petty things. Why weren't you home on time? Where were you? What did I say? Is that you talkin' back?  Things he said to me and some. Those were the nicest ones.

"Three Mississippi, you're gone, sayin' that you're done, you don't want it no more," He beats us close to death, leaving before he could kill us. He goes to a bar to drink, or goes out with a hooker.

"And four Mississippi, you're home, like nothin' ever happened at all" He's home, that's all he does, though. He just comes home, sits on his chair and waits for my mother to fill his every need.
    "Why do I stay? I know I should leave, mascara fallin' down my cheek." I look down, putting my hands in my pockets and walking slowly, kicking rocks.

"But you pull me in and make me forget about the broken glass on my skin."

"We don't get scared when the sirens come, we just pick up our bags and we make our run."