I slowly walked down the stairs in my pajamas, trying desperately not to make a sound. I peeked around the cocina corner. Father was sitting at the cocina table, sipping his coffee and lectura the paper. I silently turned around, and tip-toed back to the stairs.

"Cosette," he dicho in a deep voice. I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed quietly. I turned back around, and shuffled my feet into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Daddy," I said, trying to make him forgive me for last night. Even though it wasn't my fault. "How'd tu sleep last night?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "Don't think tu can make me forget about last night." It was worth a shot. "Explain to me what happened last night." My cheeks blushed. I didn't exactly want to tell my father that I kicked a boy because he grabbed my ass. My jaw hung open for a while, as I looked for the right words.

"Mr. Berkley just did something I did not appreciate," I decided on.

"And was that any reason to kick him?" he asked. Yes. Very much.

"No," I sighed. Father sighed as well.

"Cosette... My companies are successful, because the employees are happy and content. Now they won't be, if my children go around kicking their children. And if my employees aren't happy and content, then my companies won't be successful. Understand?" I nodded.

"Yes sir."

"Very good. Go on now," he said, returning to his paper. I stuck my tongue out at him when he wasn't looking, and went upstairs to get ready for school. I put on grey skinny jeans, that had neon colores splashed on them, and my Breaking Benjamin hoodie. I put my makeup on, ran a brush through my hair, grabbed my bag, and headed downstairs.

"Bye Mommy," Demetri said, besar Mother on the cheek. The others had already dicho their goodbyes, and were lined up at the door.

"Goodbye," she said. She looked up at me, and her smile disappeared. She sighed. "Cosette, honestly. Why can't tu wear color?"

"I am," I pouted. I pointed to my pants, and my shoes, which were red and black plaid converse. She rolled her eyes, and muttered something along the lines of "what'd I do wrong?" and went back to the kitchen. I followed my sisters and brother out the door, and we started our walk to school. The school is only four blocks away, and Demetri's middle school is along the way. I grumbled to myself as we walked through the crisp spring morning.

"What's wrong?" Tzipora, who's seventeen, asked. Everyone looked at me, and I paused at the unexpected question.

"Uh... Nothing. I'm just sick of Mother and Father being so rude to me. They just don't get me."

"Cosette, I don't even get you. None of us do, really," Anastasia, who's sixteen, admitted. I opened my mouth to give her a piece of my mind, but Asteria interrupted.

"You're so... different. Not that it's a bad thing, but... You're really different."

"Ridiculously different," Demetri added. I glared at him, and he looked down at the sidewalk.

"If you're so sick of them actuación that way," Tzipora sighed, "why don't tu change?" I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Why?! So I can be like all you?! Why do we all have to be the same?!" I shouted. They looked around in different directions, embarrassed at my outburst. None of them dicho anything. I swore at them, and then stormed off, leaving them behind.

I got to school early then, with nothing to do. I sat on the bench, and folded my arms. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I felt like I wanted to puñetazo, ponche someone in the face.

más students started mostrando up. One thing about my high school, it might be a public school, but its practically private school. Almost all the people that attend here are snobby rich kids. Just like at home, I don't fit in here. I've learned to ignore it, and most of the time, people leave me alone. I don't mind; I wouldn't want to be friends with any of these asses anyways. Every once in a while though, I get picked on.

Like today.

I felt a slight tugging on my hair. I swiped it away. A couple segundos later, it came again. I turned around, to see none other than Harland Berkley. I'd seen him at school a couple times, but last night was the only time I'd talked to him. Until then, I never knew his name either.

"What the fuck do tu want?" I asked. He was so childish. He came over and sat por me, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Is that any way for a woman to behave?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and stared at my lap. He put his arm around me then. "Where's the rest of the Hayner kids?"

"Who cares," I said. I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, and he put it on my leg.

"Well, after tu kicked me, I wasn't in the mood for dancing anymore last night. I didn't get to dance with the other freakshows."

"Go fuck yourself," I growled. I stood up, and walked away, but he followed close behind. He stepped in front of me, and stood maybe a foot taller than me. He was wearing caqui pants, a green and white polo, and a fedora hat.

"What'd tu say to me," he dicho through his teeth. For a moment, I was actually afraid. People around us slowed down, staring, and waiting for a fight. The look in Harland's eyes dicho he would have no problem with that. It was a stupid response, but I took off his hat, and threw it across the school yard.

"Go get it," I said. I turned to run away, but he grabbed my arm, and yanked me back. I almost fell onto the sidewalk, but instead I fell into Harland, and then stood up.

"You go get it," he growled. I tried to pull away, but his grip only grew tighter. I bit my tongue to keep from complaining, and just pulled harder. Then I started to panic as his grip got painfully tight, and I started to lose feeling in my hand. His face wasn't so calm either. Instinctively, I pulled back my free hand, and punched him in the face. He let go right away, and stumbled back, cupping his hands to his nose. Students shouted around us, trying to urge on a real fight.

Harland stared at me, shocked for a while. I was beginning to think he wouldn't hit a girl. I smiled victoriously, as blood dripped from his nose.

"Ahem," a voice dicho behind me. My smile disappeared. I cautiously turned around, to see Mr. Murphy, the principal. "My office. Now." He glared at Harland and I, and then turned and left. I groaned and followed him, and Harland followed behind me.

Mr. Murphy had us both sit in chairs, side por side in his office. He demanded to know what happened.

"...I was just trying to be friendly, and she threw my hat, and punched me in the face," Harland explained, with his hand still over his nose. He sounded very congested; it was kind of funny, and kind of disgusting.

"Cosette? What happened," Mr. Murphy asked me. I sighed.

"Basically what he just told you. Except he was being rude to me, and wouldn't leave me alone."

"So is that any reason to puñetazo, ponche him?" Mr. Murphy asked. It was last night all over again. Except I'm pretty sure Mr. Murphy can't send me to my room.

"Well, he was being an a-- rude... person..." I said, catching myself a little too late. Apparently Mr. Murphy knew what I was going to say, and sighed.

"Cosette, you're suspended for three days fro misconduct. I'm going to call your parents. Mr. Berkley, go to the nurse's office, and then go straight to class." Harland stood up and left, and I was trapped here, waiting for my future murderers.

They showed up twenty minutos later. They were not smiling, but they didn't look angry. Still, I was afraid for my life. Mr. Murphy explained to them what happened, and they gaped at me. Mr. Murphy also explained that I was suspended for three days. I could nearly see the possible torture methods running through their minds.

"Cosette, let's go," Father said, standing up. I followed him out, and Mother walked behind me. I was surrounded. The car ride was completely silent. It was terrifying. I went straight to my room when we got home. I was sitting on my bed, debating whether I should lock my door o not, when they both came in, steam practically coming out of their ears.

"Why would tu do that?!" Father shouted. "Do tu know how that makes me look?!"

"I can't believe tu did something like that, Cosette," Mother sighed.

"But, I--"

"I do not want to hear it, Cosette. I'm so sick of you... being rebellious o whatever it is!" Father said. He seemed to calm down a bit. Then he looked at me with sad eyes. "Cosette, I amor you, because you're my daughter and I have to... But I don't amor who tu are... Why can't tu just be normal?" he shook his head, ashamed, and left. Mother frowned at me, and left, closing the door behind her. I stared after them, shocked. They've dicho terrible things to me, that made me feel guilty for being me. But this was just indescribable pain.

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I just wanted to say, the last paragraph is an actual conversation my friend's dad had with her. So I just wanted to thank her for letting me put this in my story. MacKayla, you're perfect the way tu are. Screw what anybody says.