Everybody's Somebody
Everybody’s Somebody
Danielle Breeze
Sometimes in life, you meet people who you just know, are going to change your entire world.
for Bobbi.
Author’s note
I wanted to write a little something that you could read before this book, because...well this book is really important to me and I want you all to love it as much as I do.
Normally when I’m writing, it takes me a good while to come up with a title, sometimes I don’t even do it until I’ve finished the book, but not with this one. It was so easy to decide on a title for this piece because it’s true! Teenagers, especially teenage girls, are under so much pressure from peers, magazines, TV...even their own friends and family sometimes, to be something they’re not, say things they don’t want to say and do things they don’t want to do.
It’s too easy to get swept up in everything society tells you you’re supposed to be...a lot of people forget who they actually are. Do I think it’ll ever change? Of course not, people always want to better themselves, and that’s a good thing! Everyone should want more for themselves, further education, a better job, nicer clothes, more money...whatever it is, everyone should have dreams. But it can easily turn bad when you choose the wrong way to get your dreams.
Letting others dictate your actions, is never the way to go. Do what you want (within reason!) And be who you want to be. No one has the right to tell you that you can’t do what you want to do or be something that you want to be. Fight for yourself!!
There are people in all walks of life, from school right up until you retire, and I bet even after that, who you could swear exist just to make your life difficult! People who will put you down, pick at every little thing you do, just annoy the hell out of you most the time...just don’t let them win!!
You don’t have to follow the crowd, you can wear what you want to wear and say what you want to say! It really is that easy, but people don’t want to stand out usually, and I understand that. Everyone should have a support network, be it ten good friends, or one amazing one, it really does not matter. Everyone deserves a friend, really, everyone needs a friend, don’t close yourself from people through fear of what others will think of you.
Be yourself, and there are plenty of people who will love you for it. Make the most of what you’ve been given but always strive for better because no one’s going to hand you the world...well...not usually anyway! Work for it, earn it, live it.
Well...now that my little rant it out of the way...enjoy the story. I love the characters in this book down to my bones (All of them, even Harvey!) and I hope you will too!! :-) xx
A quick extra explanation for my American readers!
Car-park = Parking lot
Pyjamas = Pajamas
Lemonade is fizzy in the UK!
The legal age for drinking alcohol in the UK is 18.
Prologue
I’ve never been one to stand up for myself, I just want to be left alone. “Ignore them” My mother would say, “They’ll get bored eventually.” Well they hadn’t got bored yet. They hounded me, they stole from me and they said things to me that I wouldn’t say to my worst enemy. Then again, they are my worst enemies, so maybe I would...if I had the balls to do it.
I talk to myself instead, not in a creepy way though. No, when they abuse me, I do it back...in my head. I don’t know what would happen to me if I fought back, if I told them that I thought they were all just utter slags who couldn’t possibly keep one of the guys that they’re putting out for because they’re too easy, and no one wants to get saddled with a girl who opens her legs for every Tom, Dick or Harry.
But no, I couldn’t do that. My mum knows, she told me “They’ll all find out if you bring attention to yourself.” She’s right. People won’t understand me. I’m odd, not normal. She tells me all the time. She knows, but even she doesn’t understand. I’ve proved myself, I’m not crazy, I showed her. She told me I can’t ever let people know that I’m not normal, it would be frowned upon. “God wouldn’t like it either” she’d say. I’m not sure if I believe in Him at all to be honest, I do try to though, she just makes it difficult. If he was real, why would he give me my curse, then punish me for it?
Couldn’t ever tell my mum that I have doubts about my beliefs though, I wouldn’t have a home anymore. And considering she’s the only person, at all, that I speak to, I need her. She tells me the truth, lets me know when I’ve done wrong, warns me about the people that are out to get us.
I don’t really know if the ‘people that are out get us’ are really... ‘out to get us.’ I’ve never met any, and the older I get, the more I do, the more I see...the more I’m starting to think maybe they’re just out to get her? Or maybe there isn’t really anyone out to get either of us? I suppose I’ll never know for sure.
My mother doesn’t leave the house. Ever. It’s not safe for her outside she says. I don’t really know why it’s safe for me but she said it’s because my ‘gift’ protects me. I don’t think it’s a gift, I think it’s a curse. I hate it. Shouldn’t say hate mum says, God doesn’t like hate. I do, I hate a lot of things. I hate that my mum won’t leave the house, I hate that I can’t have friends, I hate that I can’t even speak to people...but mostly, I hate that I’m just not normal.
Everyone wants to be different, they want to stand out, be special, be gifted...not me, I’d give anything for even a day of normal. Candice, she says I’m not normal because I’m just like my mum. She’s wrong, I’m not, I’m nothing like her, I want for things, I like things, I want more. Mum doesn’t want things. God doesn’t like greed, she’d say, then she’d order things she’d seen on TV that she will never need.
I’m not greedy though. I just want the little things that I can’t have, but other people have.
I want those new boots everyone has, the ones with the fluffy insides and the flat soles. I want to wear skinny jeans and I want to wear a thong. Mum won’t let me wear things like that.
I don’t really know why fluffy boots would upset God, I don’t know why skinny jeans or a thong would upset Him either. I wouldn’t be naked, not even showing skin, I don’t understand. She won’t explain, The Almighty doesn’t give explanations apparently. Honestly, I think she uses the Lord to give herself an excuse to treat me badly. She shouldn’t do that though, it’s wrong and it makes me doubt any faith I might have.
I wish she wouldn’t do it at all. I guess part of me is hoping she’ll eventually see the error of her ways. It could happen, it might...it probably won’t though.
I think...I think my mum is ill.
Chapter one
Invisible
College, although it was my reprieve from home and from my mother, was also difficult.
That day was no exception.
I walked towards my last class of the day, thinking that it wasn’t a bad day for me. Candice wasn’t in any of my classes so far, and her minions ignored me when she wasn’t there. I preferred that.
But I was dreading the next class.
Psychology. It was good for me, I loved the brain, the mind, wanted to know all about it, maybe try and figure out my curse. But the others? They weren’t there to learn, they were there because they thought it was easy. It’s not. A lot of them dropped out after the first month, there was only about half a class left. I don’t understand why they thought it would be easy, it’s study of the brain for crying out loud! The brain is complex and beautiful.
They don’t understand real beauty.
I don’t think its dyed hair, layers of foundation and an inch of make-up around the eyes. That’s fake. Real beauty is serenity, its understanding, its peace and it’s honesty.
There really was not much real beauty in my world.
~*~*~*~*~
The ‘Travis twins’ were in my psychology class. I did not like Harvey. Harvey Travis. He slept around, a lot. Candice thought she was his girlfriend, but she wasn’t. Not really anyway. He was also sleeping with Rachael, Lissa and Mikaela. Mikaela was Candice’s best friend. I don’t really know how she got away with it, but it was happening.
How do I know? People forgot I even existed most the time, they talked, whether I was there or not. I knew most things in college that others didn’t. They just didn’t know me. They didn’t care to.
Jamie’s different though, he always was. Jamie Travis. He made my heart skip a beat. He smiled at me! No one smiled at me, but he did. It’s a beautiful smile, makes the room light up. It’s a slightly crooked smile, lips curved up higher on one side than the other. But it’s beautiful all the same.
His lips are full and smooth. They don’t get rough and chapped in the winter like mine do. He wouldn’t ever have a problem like that. Just because he’s perfect...and he really is perfect.
He has this scruffy, dirty blonde hair that always seems to look like he’s just got out of bed. Even that seems perfect on him though, like it was made to be that way.
I guess you could say he doesn’t really ‘fit in’ to any little clique, he’s just his own person. He’s not preppy or sporty (although he does play football, but all guys do that, right?). He doesn’t wear make-up and black nail varnish like the gothic kids do and he doesn’t live in high end designer gear all the time.
He’s just...him. And I adore him.
He’s had a lot of girlfriends, they didn’t last long though. He didn’t cheat like Harvey did either, at least I don’t think he did. I would know about it, I’m sure of it.
They lived two doors down from me, the ‘Travis twins’. I wasn’t sure that they even know that though. Their house was better than mine too, their mum planted flowers.
She’s stunningly beautiful, in a real way. She has long blonde hair that ends just below her shoulders, smooth and sleek, and it’s not scraggly or wiry like my mums. No, she doesn’t even look old enough to have eighteen year old twin boys. She doesn’t have a single wrinkle on her face, but there’s a sadness in her eyes. I think I know the reason why, but I never trust myself 100%...even though I’ve never been wrong.
She knows everyone, they all stop and talk to her in the street and they laugh. She’s always baking treats and taking them to the neighbours, I’ve seen her do it. She never did bring anything to our house though, I suppose I don’t blame her.
Their dad, I’m not sure about him. He sneers at our house sometimes. I can understand that though really, because it’s shabby and run down. The neighbourhood is not shabby and run down. My daddy bought us that house. He was proud of it, he painted the window sills and he put hanging baskets by the door. It was beautiful then, when my daddy was here, he’s not here anymore.
He’s not dead I don’t think. Mum says he’s dead. But I saw him pack, I knew he did it. And she forgets, she forgets how much I can really see. I know he’s out there. He’s a good man too, from what I can remember, but I don’t know why he left. I’ve tried and tried to find out, but my mind won’t let me do that. Subconscious self-preservation I presume. My mind doesn’t want me to know. I don’t really care for the reason why he left; I just want to know why he left me!
~*~*~*~*~
I can’t pay attention in class, I’m a dreamer. The teachers never ask me questions anyway. They ignore me too. I don’t need to pay attention though, don’t need to study either. My brain ‘gifts’ me the answers. I still go to college though. I need to do something, mainly because I don’t want to become like my mother.
I was about to step over the threshold of the classroom when I was hit by a vision. This is why I hate my ‘gift’ it paralyses me, any time, any place. Black, empty, void...that’s how my body feels.
But my mind? No.
My mind is a whirl of pictures, images that are scary, daunting, useless, exciting, sometimes even funny. They can be about anything, or anybody. I get locked inside my own head and even though I have my own thoughts, I lose control of my body. It does not make a lick of difference what I’m doing or where I am. If they’re going to hit, they hit.
She’s standing at the top of the field, she’s...upset, I think? Looks like she’s been crying for sure. Who is she though? Can’t see her properly yet. It’s raining heavily around her, maybe she’s not crying then? It could be just the rain. I can feel her pain though, she’s hurt. Oh no! She’s hurt! I want to move closer to her, comfort her, but I can’t move my feet. There’s a shadow nearby, a boy, a man maybe. She puts her arm across her stomach and falls to the floor with a cry.
Who IS she? I definitely need to know now, I stare hard to clear the images. Clarity. It hits with a force so strong I feel the need to rock back on my feet to steady myself. I don’t though. I’m locked inside my mind.
She’s not hurt, emotionally yeah, but not physically. Her heart’s breaking. Oh no! The heart breaker, he’s there. He’s that shadow, he’s watching, but not helping. Why isn’t he helping her? I guess because he’s the cause. She’s lost...no...she’s feeling A loss. He is too I think, whatever has happened is still his fault, regardless of how he feels. His face shows clear in my mind, he’s crippled with guilt and looks nothing like the Harvey Travis I know. He’s not a bad guy, he just acts bad. He’ll be a good man, I can feel it.
Harvey Travis? Be a good man? Huh...who’d have thought it.
The girl lifts her eyes and scans the area. She’s screaming something, I’m just not close enough to hear what. Then I’m there, I’m by her side and looking into the face of Mikaela Smith. I ache to reach out to her but I can’t. She looks up, almost like she can sense I’m there, which is ridiculous I know...because it hasn’t happened yet. I focus on her screaming, it’s muddled, it doesn’t make sense, so I concentrate further. ‘I know you’re out there you cowardly bastard. I hate you, I’ll never forgive you for this. I hope you rot in hell for what you’ve done to me.’ She’s right. He is there. I don’t know how she knows that though. She doesn’t look beautiful but bitchy now, she looks distraught. Why would Mikaela be screaming at Harvey like that I wonder? It’s pain though, definitely, she’s in emotional agony. Poor Mikaela.
I was thrust back into realty when I was shoved from behind and I stumbled forward a few steps, dropping my bag in the process. I heard them cackle at me and a familiar voice mutter “Fucking freak.”
I’m used to that insult. Maybe they think it upsets me but it’s not really an insult because it’s kind of true, she just doesn’t know how much. Candice Oliver.
Queen of the school, you could say. She has a pretty face, I guess, but she smothers it in so much make-up, that you can never be sure what’s real and what’s not.
She even draws on one of those ‘beauty spots’ on her face, just above her top lip. I will never understand that, it doesn’t look good. Kind of looks a bit like she’s accidently left some chocolate on her face or something. God forbid if anyone ever said anything bad about her, they’d be ridiculed for the rest of their college life.
She’s a stereotypical bully, and a bitch. She acts like she has the world in the palm of her hand but she’s not truly happy, bullies usually aren’t. I’ve seen visions of her before; I think her dad hits her mum, and her mum hits back.
Violence is never good, but it’s bad there. They have money, a lot of it, money doesn’t equal happiness though and I think they’re proof of that. It still doesn’t give her the right to treat me how she does either, so I don’t warn her of my visions. I couldn’t anyway obviously. But I’d never risk myself for her like I have others. She doesn’t deserve it.
I slumped down on my chair and then winced, forgetting that those damn chairs were not made for comfort. They’re plastic, hard and in all honesty, most of them are broken so you take your safety in your own hands sitting on one!
I started to unload my bag
when I felt him - Jamie Travis, strutting into the room like he owned the joint. He’s arrogant for sure, but he can be I suppose. Mainly because he’s just so utterly perfect. He strolled past my table, hesitated briefly to send me a small smile.
Told you he smiles at me!
He’s the only one. The ONLY one. Even my own mother doesn’t smile at me. I love that smile. I love him really. I’ll never tell him though; he’s too good for me. Then again, he’s too good for everyone. I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see where he sat and noticed he’d taken the seat behind me, just to the left.
Like I said before, I don’t pay attention in class anyway, but him sitting so close to me? No, I had precisely zero percent chance of learning anything new when I could still smell his aftershave and hear his murmurings with Harvey.
He looked gorgeous. As usual
His hair was windswept that day, like he’d been driving around with the top down on his car or he’d been running his fingers through it a lot. It was just getting to the point where he needed to cut it because there was a little section that kept falling down into his eyes and I’d already seen him push it back twice.
“Yo, Jay, what the fuck you doin’ sittin’ up there with the freaks and losers? Come sit back ‘ere man.”
I tensed at the shouted voice from the back of the class. He didn’t speak quietly, thus proving that no one really cared that he had just insulted a good half of the class, in his mind.
Stupid Braden Matthews.
He’s the male equivalent of Candice as far as I’m concerned. He’s loud, rude and he thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Yet another thing that, for me, suggests maybe God does not exist. If Braden is the sort of gift that God gives to women, he definitely does not exist – either that or he just hates all women and the likelihood of that being true is slim.
I didn’t even waste my time looking back, or giving any reaction for that matter. Although, I heard Jamie reply, “Shut the fuck up Bray. I’ll sit wherever I wanna sit, don’t be a jackass.”