-- screamin out loud.

[zahara celia delacroix.]

--- Zahara was staring out the widow of her dance class. The yards seemed somewhat peaceful at this time of night. Not many people were allowed to stay after hours, she was one of them, but I guess it came in handily to be a favorite of the janitor. As long as she gave him smokes she got in after hours, which was what ended her being here. It was at this time she could practice safely. Zahara didn’t like to practice in sweats; with all the layers of clothes is stopped her from being able to dance freely so she sat out. But tonight she could practice normally. She had blown off her boyfriend leaving him a message on his cell saying she had an emergency and couldn’t make it. Shed pay for that later but for now all she could focus on was her low marks, the marks she fully intended on raising. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of booty shots. She felt exposed slightly, like she wasn’t wearing anything. But I guess that was a normal feeling considering she usually wore long shirts, jeans, never exposing her skin. She skin seemed to shine in the darkness of the studio, her bruises clearly visible. Most of them here along her arms, but you could see some on her legs. Zahara had never wanted this to happen, to be stuck in a relationship like this, but she was and she wasn’t ready to let go, she never would be. It had gotten worse the day before, he had never really hit her twice in a row, but yesterday was different, and she had the bruised jaw and the black eye to prove it. Things had gotten even more complicated now, but she just wanted a night away from it, no matter what this would cost her.

--- Zahara had been here for about three hours now. Since she walked into the studio she had been working her but off to make her routine the best. Dance was the only thing that she had left, everything else had been taken away, her music was sort of hers but her brother seemed to want to take that away to, dance was something no one could, shed make sure of it. Her routine was not a group project, which was good; it was individual which was always nice. She world well in groups, very good, but individual she shined. Zahara turned her head when she heard a rap on the door. She smiled slowly at the janitor who warned her she had only about two hours before his shift was over. She nodded and turned back to the window as he left. As much as that janitor loved her, the other didn’t, and there was no surprise to that I mean she had quite the rep at the school. She sighed turning off the music and making her way to the corner where her bag was. She grabbed her smokes and lighter and made her way back to the window, she opened it slightly, feel the soft breeze on her face. It felt nice, lately she felt like she was being held away from everyone, it had been a long time since shed seen or hung out with anyone other than her boyfriend and she was just getting tired of that. Grabbing one of her smokes she held it between her lips while she light it. Taking a deep drag she made her way back over to her purse to put the rest of them away along with her lighter. Smoking seemed to calm her down, yeah it was bad for her, and she knew it but really was it worse than being in the relationship she seemed to be caught in.

--- She took another drag as she walked around the studio, as much as she knew she didn’t want to be there for much longer she also didn’t want to go home, and she couldn’t go out so it was here or going home to her annoying brother who thought he knew everything. So instead she sat on the floor pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. Taking another deep drag she thought of her boyfriend. When they had first started dating she had been so involved in their relationship most of her friends gave up on her. She just wanted love so bad that’s he devoted herself to it. She remembered the first time he told her he loved her, she had been so over the top with joy, that was also the first time she had sex with him, but after that things just went down hill. She wanted it to work so badly she just didn’t get it. Why had her relationship ended with her fearing him. She loved him, more than anything but maybe that was where she had gone wrong, falling in love. Then she got too deep, too involved and now she couldn’t get out. He was suffocating her but she couldn’t breathe without him. She just couldn’t do it. Zahara looked at the clock and sighed slightly. She needed to leave soon so she might as well go now. She grabbed her things taking another drag of her cigarette and left the studio and the school all together. She didn’t leave the grounds but just the school itself.

--- She walked over to the side of the school where her and savannah use to sit and skip and sat down back against the wall. She just needed to get away for a bit, clear her head. She closed here eyes slightly, taking the last drag of her cigarette. She was addicted to these but for a good reason they made her calm, and through out all the chaos that was something she needed. So Zahara did what she always did took another one, light it and took a drag. She just wished this would all stop, that all this drama would go away, She wished that she could be the girl she was before all of this happened. Looking down at her legs she felt a tear escape. It had been a long time since she cried but now she just wanted to. Her legs were covered in bruises, and her arms, and her face was what really pissed her off, makeup could cover it but she had left the house without any on today and of course school had been a nightmare. Questions asked, suspicions raised and she just wished that would all stop to. She lifted up her shirt slightly to look at the bruises on the left side of her, the story that she had fed to everyone was that she had fallen down the stairs, but even so, could the stairs realty do this. She sighed not really paying attention to anything and took another long drag of her cigarette will everything to just fall away, into the dreamland she seemed to be living in.

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--- Status , finished!
--- Tag , open! i had some muse to kill xD
--- Word count , 1. 172. sorry it sucks!
--- Atire , hurr!
--- Notes , there donee!
--- Music , starstruckk, 3OH!3 <33

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[everleigh mcqueen]

LIGHT THE FUSE, FLIP THE SWITCH---*

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baby, hold your ground[/font][/font][/center]

She was cursed. That had to be the explanation. Why else would Everleigh have been back at school after classes had already been dismissed? She hated being in school when it was required, and now she was back - though it wouldn't be as miserable now that the teachers and insanely annoying student body had left the building - because she forgot her notebook in her locker. She knew the doors would be locked, but she’d be willing to give the janitor a quick blowjob if he'd let her sneak in. She desperately needed that notebook. It was just recently that Everleigh had begun writing her own lyrics without the help of her bandmates, and now that her band, Hell’s Belles, had been getting more high-profile gigs downtown, she needed her new lyrics so the band could compose their music and make some actual songs for them to debut during next week’s show in Brooklyn.

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Everleigh pulled up to the academy and parked her hybrid Pruis in the staff parking lot. Even though her car was less than a year old and helped the environmet, she still heard the whispers about how her car was "low class" or "cheap". Everleigh didn't care though. If the Prius is good enough for Leonardo DiCaprio and Camren Dias, it was good enough for her. She knew she wouldn’t be ticketed after hours for parking in a reserved spot for the principal, but the student parking lot was unfairly placed what seemed to be miles from the main entrance of the school, and she was in a hurry. As she took her keys out of the ignition, Everleigh noticed somebody – a dancer by the looks of it – sitting on the ground by the side of the building, hunched over, sobbing. She knew it wasn’t any of her friends – they were all waiting for her at the studio, on time for practice. She looked familiar though. Her hair… it was long, dark brown… dancer’s body… But then Everleigh noticed something else. The crying girl had a cigarette in her hand, and she only knew one dancer who smoked, and that was Zahara.

What was she to do? Everleigh was torn. She was late for practice and needed to hurry up and get into the school before the janitor’s shift was over – but she wasn’t heartless. What if she had just been jumped and needed to go to the hospital? She looked pretty beaten up, so Everleigh went with her gut instinct and walked over to Zahara, after locking up her car, and crouched down beside her slowly, making sure not to startle her. "Hey... Z... you okay?"[/blockquote]

TAGS--*zahara
OUTFIT--*right here
WORDS--* 451
LYRICS--* hey monday--set off
CREDIT--* MEELA! at CAUTION 2.0 ?!
NOTES--* yayy, let's thread![/size][/font]