The Mortician's Daughter

This is an actual book I'm writing and hope to get published someday :) Check back everyday for more chapters

Chapter 1

Looking At The Reflection In The Mirror

I looked in the mirror at myself. Wondering what other people seen me as when I walked by. I couldn't help but wonder how they thought of me. Did they see an Atheist? Did they see someone who practiced witchcraft? Did they see a juvenile? What exactly did they see? I should know the answer by the strange looks I receive when I walk out into public.
The dirty stares and people whispering. I felt like a donkey on a racetrack full of Thoroughbreds.
I had never really belonged anywhere. State after state. School after school. The judgment and torment was the same. Judged and persecuted in the wrong way's. No one understood me and I returned the favor. Even my own parents didn't know they're own daughter. That's what you get when your a Mortician's daughter.
I continued to stare in the mirror at my lilac eyes and black hair. I did this every morning. I was waiting for someone to see passed the make-up I wore or the nail polish on my nails. I had built walls and waited everyday for someone to come and break them down. I didn't believe anyone was brave enough to break the walls down. No one was willing to look passed my looks for once.
If anyone was around what I was around my whole life, they would be the same. It was never fun as a young child to walk in the morgue at night and find a deceased body on the table awaiting my father's return to finish his work. And it had been worse.
No child at the age of seven should see a body that had been mauled by a bear or a body that had been missing for weeks and then found and sent to my father for examining. I would never allow my child to see what my father had allowed me.
Just thinking about it sent chills down my spine.
"Annabella! It's time to go!" My mother yelled from the bottom of the staircase. "Coming!" I yelled back. I began to shove my make-up in my purse and anything I thought I would need.
We pulled into the school's parking lot. The giant sign reading, Welcome To Irvington High School. I felt welcomed. This day was going to be long. "I'll pick you up this evening." My mother, Eliza, said kissing my cheek as I opened the door. If I survive, I thought to myself. But I just smiled. "Okay. I'll see you then." I said and got out of the car. I stepped on to the sidewalk and watched as my mother drove away in her silver Mercedes. I turned to face the school. The parking lot full of people stopped to stare at the new girl. I kind of held my head low like a young wolf coming into a new pack. I walked threw the crowd of people. I looked at the ground so I wouldn't have to look into the eyes of the confused. I walked in the doors and stood in the hall and listened as the soft hum of whispers filled the air.
The memories of my past tried to fill my head put I pushed them away. I wouldn't allow the haunting memories to take over. Not now anyway.
I walked down the hall to the locker in which had the number on it I had written on the paper in my hand.
I started putting away my books when, "hi, you must be the new girl." Echoed in my locker. I looked up to see a girl with silky blond hair looking at me cheerfully. "Yeah. Hi." I said easily shutting the locker door. "I'm Annabelle. The-" She cut me off. "Mortician's daughter. Yeah. You've been the talk of the town." She half smiled. I sighed annoyed. "Don't worry. My dad runs the funeral home your dad is working at. We're the same kind of weird." She said. Trust me, we're not. I thought to myself. I just nodded. "I'm Rebeca. You can call me Beckie though." She said holding her hand out. "Nice to meet you." I said shaking her hand gently. "Don't worry. You won't fit in at first but they'll adjust and you'll be popular." She said as we walked down the hall. "I doubt it. I've never fit in anywhere. I don't expect to here." I replied. She raised one eyebrow as if to say, your lying.
After History, Calculus and Biology, we went to lunch.
I wasn't sure where to sit. I looked around the lunch room for a place to sit. Then I saw Beckie waving for me to join her. I walked threw the lunch room passed the staring strangers. I sat my lunch tray on the table and looked at the faces of the small group looking at me with questions. "Annabelle, this is Damion." She said pointing to a boy with black, spiked hair, wearing a leather jacket and bright blue eyes. He stuck his hand up in a weak 'hello' wave. I nodded. "This is Bobby." She said pointing to a boy with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. He smiled and nodded. "This is Ashley, a.k.a Ash." She continued pointing to a girl with ginger red hair and green eyes. "Hi." She smiled. "Hey." I said quietly. "And Alexis and Alex are twins. We call Alexis Lexi." She pointed to a boy and girl. The boy, Alex, had blond hair and gray eyes. He nodded like I had and I returned the friendly nod. The girl, Lexi, had brown hair with heavy blond highlights and hazel eyes. "Hello." She said cheerfully. "Hi." I smiled. I sat down. "Now, can you remember they're names?" Beckie asked. "Yeah." I said. "Point them out then." She replied. "Okay. That's Damion, that's Bobby, that's Lexi, that's Alex and that's Ashley." I said pointing them out. "Good. You remembered they're names. That's a good Annabelle." She said patting my head like I was a dog. I chuckled. "This is our own little group of friends. Whoever is our friend, we accept. But when they betray our trust, we kick 'em out." Rebeca said. I raised my brows as if I were interested. I really was but at the same time I wasn't. My very delightful trait. "Well, Annabelle, what do you do for fun?" Lexi asked. "Well, er, I don't... really... know." I paused a little bit. "What do you mean you don't really know?" Rebeca asked. "I've never been accepted by people before. I spend most of my time at the funeral home with my father doing people's make- up and stuff." I explained. They looked at me in shock. I stabbed the piece of chicken rather hard with my fork. Then the bell rung. I jumped up and stormed for the next class.

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