My best friend told me a saying once, for every piece of good luck that comes your way, you will have to be presented with an equal amount of bad luck, and I lived by this saying.
When I was 14 I got an A on a maths test. A week later I failed English.
When I was 15 I got offered a modelling contract from one of the most prestigious agencies. A month later I lost my best friend to a car accident.
When I was 16 I became the most popular girl in school who everyone wanted to be, all the guys wanted to date and who everyone talked about, 3 months later I became the most hated, and biggest slut, because a girl wanted my man.
When I was 17 I started at a new school, new friends, and best of all, I was far away, my new lifestyle was all I had ever wanted, and I became everything I had wanted to be. 5 Months later I met him.
I had decided to take an extra class last minute, for some extra credit. I was doing so well already, I was greedy to do better. I wanted to make sure I had the brains behind the models face.
With my brand new air of confidence I walked into that first class like I owned the place, but sat in the corner, I didn’t want to lose focus.
That’s when he walked in.
He was tall and dark and handsome, he had high cheekbones and long natural lashes, wearing a leather jacket and tight jeans, he had style and taste I had never seen before in a 17 year old boy. He looked like he had just got back from an Armani shoot.
He walked tall and straight, with intended steps and an overpowering nature. I sat a little straighter, and nervously played with the ends of m hair. Without even looking at me he walked fast paced to the seat beside me and put down his sleek black folder.
I hadn’t thought about a new boyfriend in months and weighed up his potential as he took a pen out of his folder and started sorting through a planner as we waited for the class to start.
An older man stumbled into the room dropping his books on the teaching table and snapped me out of my dream like state, shaking my head and letting go of my hair, and mentally calling myself a pathetic drooling teenager, I began copying down the notes in front of me.
Wearing heels to school was obviously a bad idea I thought as I kicked them off, crossing my legs underneath the table, and leaning an elbow boredly on the table. When suddenly feeling some skin on skin action on my lower foot, my head snapped to the dark haired god beside me, his eyes still glued to the obviously nervous teacher in front of us, showing nothing.
Thinking his foot must of accidentally collided with mine I remained focused on the lesson, although deciding it would proberly be best if I left my foot where it was, you know so best not to disturb the no named boy beside me.
Well unless he was mistaking my foot for his own, unlikely, it defiantly did not accidentally collide, I thought to myself as his foot was now eagerly rubbing up against my leg, and thank god I shaved my legs this morning.
Thinking that victory was mine I awaited the end of class when I could finally get some real flirting done and hopefully a date for this weekend.
No such luck.
The dark haired god was out the door before I had even replaced my shoe. Wondering what the hell that was about I took my time walking to my next class.
Weeks went past without nothing, not even a glance, the only exception being his permanent seat next to mine, and his foot against my leg, until one day it all changed.
As per usual he departed at the end of class more quickly and with more grace than a ghost.
Slipping on my shoes and searching my bag for my locker key I too retreated, giving up on my attempts at subtle flirting, reaching my locker, I noticed the boy, whose name I had found to be Jake, leaning against it, a small smirk playing on his lips and an intense stare in my direction. Playing it cool I casually strolled up to him.
As I reached him his hand reached out quickly taking mine, using his hip to gently but forcefully push me against the lockers, he kissed me with so much passion and lust, I actually almost went weak at the knees. He parted and wrote his number on a piece of paper, tearing it out of his folder and handing it to me, and before I knew it he had disappeared again.
Things moved quickly from there, in a matter of two days we were dating., and three before we had our first couple fight.
And then our second.
And then our third.
I no longer saw him as the dark haired god I thought of him as the paranoid monster who was taking over my life. It didn’t take a genius to realise he had anger management issues and a past that haunted him.
Day after day, night after night we fought, but I was scared of him, at the time I didn’t know why, but I knew I had messed up, and I knew things weren’t going to be the same, and things defiantly weren’t going to get better.
The sad thing was that he was the way he was because of his past and I was the way I was because of my past, we made the perfect couple, we were both messed up and in need of escape.
He forced me to quit my very successful modelling career telling me id never be able to make it in the modelling world, he always had a way of making me feel shit about myself. He made me cut off my friends and become distant with my family.
A week later I tried to break it off with him, he threatened me in every way he could, death threats, torture threats, and threats that involved the people and things I cared so much about. But I had had enough and I was sick of this pathetic little grovelling girl I had become over the last two weeks.
I stepped onto the escalator and felt him step on behind me, ignoring him I concentrated ahead of me, until I felt a sharp pain on the back of my leg, where something had just come in contact with it, losing all feeling in it, I lost balance and fell down the rest of the steps. Embarrassed by the group of people now watching me I quickly picked myself up and gave a smile, waiting until the people in the overcrowded shopping mall returned to their own business, feeling scared and alone I dragged my aching leg to a nearby half wall that separated two larger rooms.
I knew he was right behind me again, I could feel his breath on my neck before I felt the pain of his knee on my sore leg and the weight of his body against my back. He told me he knew where I lived before whispering threats towards my family and myself, and telling me that it was best we sorted this out.
So I became a crying babbling weak little girl begging him to take me back and apologising over and over again for the nothing I had done in the first place. He calmed down, kissed me on the forehead and said he promised he wouldn’t do that again.
Of course he always did.
I was missing school and failing, my parents became disappointed in me. I could never say no to Jake and even when I was in class i couldn’t concentrate.
He broke two of my fingers, sprained my ankle, bruised my entire right arm, punched me in the lip, not to mention the constant cuts and bruises from falling onto bushes or my body coming into contact with his fist or foot. Nobody noticed, after all I was a naturally clumsy person.
I lost the new friends I had made from losing touch with them and from being distant. I was alone.
My life resembled that of a train wreck in the last few months of my life.
TEENAGE TRAGEDY
Student, Stacey Carr, 17, was announced dead today yesterday at 3.13pm, after being pushed off the third floor of a mall, downtown. The shopping centre was closed for the afternoon as an ambulance was called to the scene. Eye witnesses say that Stacey was ‘having an argument with a boy and crying before he pushed her off of the ledge,’ other witnesses say ‘we heard a loud thump and turned around to see the body of a teenage girl, distorted, lying on the ground.’
The boy who pushed the young girl later being discovered as being Stacey’s boyfriend and classmate of 5 months, Jake Newman. Stacey’s body was found to have cuts and bruises prior to the fall pointing evidence to prolonged abuse.
A state-wide search was done last night for Jake Newman with nothing being found until this morning when a note was found on top of the boys body, situated next to a bottle of vodka and an empty bottle of depression tablets. An autopsy report is waiting to confirm this as the cause of the boy’s suicide. In the note there was such statements as “She (Stacey) didn’t love me anymore,” and “I am only guilty of loving Stacey too much.”
Stacey Carr was a well known in the modelling world before quitting suddenly a few months back, just before signing a contract with one of Americas biggest labels. Family and friends described her as becoming moody and distant but blamed this on her senior year at high school, thinking she was simply dealing with the pressures of her workload.
Jake Newman, living alone, had no living relatives.
