Black Battle

My body shivered at the sight of him, casually leaning against my locker. His black, tight jeans showed his extra long legs. His black T-shirt stretched across his muscled chest and let see his tattoos clearly. A black Ray-Ban sunglasses was slipped over his nose and curly hair stood up defiantly. The whole place gave him a sexy but dangerous look. For me this was worse than other people. I'm always his victim, always. The strap of my satchel cut my shoulder, which I have forced to walk towards my locker to change my books. The boy's mouth curled up when he saw walking my frail body. I was thin, I had inherited from my mother. My height was not exactly the best point for me. With my 15 years I was still 1 meter 65. contrary to Harry, who had reached a large 1 meter 80. The closer I came to the boy, the more shiver slid down my spine. Yet a few steps. I bridged the last few steps and stood 10 centimeters of the guys from.
"Harry? Could you please move?" My voice was just a whisper through the fear. My gaze is focused on his brown shoes.
"People look when you talk is so polite, Emma" Harry spat my name as if it were a piece of dirt. His big hand closed around my chin and pushed my head up. I felt his fingers squeezing hard in the thin skin of my cheek.
"Did you finish my homework?" His voice is a menacing whisper. With trembling hands I pry his grip off my chin and slowly pull his maths exercise book out of my bag. He snatched it from my hands and scroll through the assignment. His gaze remains neutral, but it does not take away my fear. His long fingers fold the script again and glide to my cheek, where he places them gently.
"Next time ..." His eyes were darker and his fingers curled so his nails pulled out in the thin skin of my cheek.
"Could you write neater." He glared at me and pressed his nails a little deeper into my cheeks. I felt the skin a little ripped open. He leaned forward and pushed my hair behind my ear.
"I expect you after school behind the building" his hands let go of my chin and he took a step backward. I was thrown one dirt look, then he turned and walked to his group of friends. They all looked at me laughing. They greeted their friend cheerfully as he walked up and they walked away. I felt a drop of moisture gliding over my cheek. With a quick pull I wiped it off, nobody had to see me cry. It was only when I looked at my hand, I saw that it was blood. I let out a little shaky sigh and walked toward the bathroom. I had to keep me strong.

A/N Already sorry for some grammar mistakes, because English is actually nog my first language, that is Dutch. But I really wanted to write a English story!

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