Insane.

She stared ahead. Her head was pounding and she was trying to make the noise fade away. A permanent, gruesome scowl was plastered on her face as her stomach locked and her eyes tingled.

"Today, we are drawing religious figures. Start with that stain glass pattern, Angel, so you'll finish." The teacher said, giving a pointed looks towards Angel.

Angel swallowed, nodding. What had possessed her to make such an elaborate and time-consuming pattern? She did not feel like coloring. In fact, all she felt like doing was blowing up at everyone and enjoying their pain instead of her own.

She choose her colors-using markers, because for sure she would break the crayons-and started.

Around her, chatter was picking up between her classmates. They talked endlessly, but for some reason they kept re-telling the same jokes.

Routine.

She didn't find stuff funny once she'd laughed at it five times before. Especially when she had no idea about what they were squawking about now.

She was in no mood for laughing.

As she started coloring, the talking finally became background noise.

But she wasn't allowed peace. Her head was still pounding, its thought process making her grimace. The voices outside may have faded, but the voices inside were just getting started.

"What are you doing? Coloring?" One of the crueler voices scoffed. "Why not say something different to shake these people up?"

Because I don't want to hurt them! She screamed back, but only in her mind.

"Why not? They've hurt you. You're not happy. And you know it."

STOP! Angel's eyes stung more. She didn't want to listen anymore.

"Angel, I can't find your paper." Her teacher said, snapping her from her thoughts.

"Oh. Mine's the one cut all crookedly." Angel said, her voice sounding dead to her own ears.

"Ah, I see." The teacher pretended not to be disappointed in Angel's lack of art talent. The teacher handed her some gold paper, "Here."

"That's it. Thanks." Angel smiled as convincingly as she could. She gave a short laugh, "I cant cut for my life."

"We both know that's not true. I happen to think you re very good at making those red scabs on your arms." A voice said in Angel's head.

Angel held in her sob. She didn't bother thinking anything back. It never made the voices stop anyway.

She focused on coloring again. Soon, it was just her and her picture. She bit her lips, trying to keep the picture neat. But the marker kept slipping outside the lines.

Soon she was frustrated. Suddenly, all she was focused on was making this picture perfect. But she knew it wouldn't be, since anything that came from her was never perfect.

Angel put down her markers as she heard the teacher say to go back to class. She got up, bumping into her friend. She didn't bother apologizing, and her friend gave her a dirty look.

"See, she doesn't like you." The voice said again.

Angel bumped into her friend again. "Sorry," she tried to say, but she ended up just mouthing the words.

She couldn't say them, because it was a lie. She wasn't sorry.

She was insane.
{*}{*}{*}

I didn't know how to end it. I wrote it when I got home from school. It's a biography, by the way. I'm sorry if its horrible.

I won't be posting on my personal blog, so I just thought this would tell you how I'm feeling right now.

xoxo

-{mari}