A/N: Hey, all! I'm back with chapter two! I hope you enjoy it!

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CHAPTER TWO

Face It Later

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I woke up to a stiff neck and the sound of my father screaming.

"That bitch left me! That stupid bitch left me!"

I sighed. Just another day in the Megurine household.

The stiff neck was my fault. I'd fallen asleep on my side, facing the doorway, watching and waiting for my mother to come back in and tell me it was all a cruel joke, even though I knew deep down that it wasn't.

Looking at the clock, I quickly slid out of bed. I had to get ready for school. I opened my dresser drawer and pulled out the first outfit I saw; I'd gotten in the habit of arranging all my clothes so I could get to them and change into them fast, because I never knew when my dad was going to just burst into my room, and I didn't want my back turned or anything if he came in. I swiftly took off last night's clothes and got into today's, my dad stomping around all the while.

I was just pulling down my shirt when my father threw the door open and marched in. "Your damn mother's walked out on us."

It hit me fully what had happened last night. My face fell even further, if that was possible.

"Well," he said, "what have you to say to that? Still like your precious Mommy better than me?"

He gave me a crazed smile. I shivered, and looked toward the bottom-left corner of my vision. He wasn't drunk; that meant he was less violent and twisted than usual, but far better at hurting me emotionally. My father had always been jealous of my relationship with my mother, even when I was little. I hadn't realized until a few years ago, but it was true.

"You should look at me when I'm talking to you," he said, stepping closer to me.

I made a small, involuntary noise and backed away, almost into the dresser.

"What's the matter, baby?"

"Don't," I said. "Don't call me that."

He just chuckled and softly stroked my cheek. I shuddered, and for a moment, all I could think of was that horrible night. The feeling of my back against the floor and my screaming and pleading and—

Crying out, I jumped away, my heart racing. "I-I have to go to school," I stuttered, grabbing my bookbag, and rushing past him out of my room before he could stop me.

I ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I let out a sigh. I was safe—for now.

Before, I didn't have to be this afraid. He was less likely to try anything with my mother around, even when he was drunk. He would hit either of us regardless of whether the other was around, but this kind of thing…

I shook my head to bring myself back to here and now. I brushed my long, cascading hair, so much like my mother's. I tried my hardest not to think of her, the one thing that used to ease my broken heart and mind. As I got ready, my mind wandered a bit, and I realized things were going to be very, very different now. My mother had done most of the laundry, shopping, cleaning… Who was going to do these things now? I knew for certain that my father would never do two out of those three things unless threatened with death or something, and the other only out of dire necessity. It looked like that responsibility would fall to me, now. My mother worked, too; her not being here meant less money to live on as well.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and hesitated as I reached for the doorknob. It was silent. Well, I figured, if he's waiting for me right outside the door, he's not going anywhere, so I may as well go out.

Opening the door, I headed straight for out when I saw he wasn't standing in the way. I got all the way to the front door before I heard him say, "See you after school." I paused for a moment, not daring to look at him, then continued on my way.

All kinds of worry filled my head as I walked to school. The "what-if"s piled up so high I could hardly see straight. This was bad. This was really, really bad. The clamor in my head finally became so much that I had to stop walking and take several long, deep breaths.

Face it later, I told myself. Just worry about school for now.

Looking ahead, I sighed and kept on walking.

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I stopped in the bathroom on the way to my first class and saw a blue notebook sitting near one of the sinks. It's cover was perfect, so I assumed it was brand-new. I flipped it open and was surprised to find that every single page had been written on—and it wasn't homework. It looked like a journal or something of that nature. I took a look around to make sure no one was watching, then turned back to the notebook. I looked on the inside covers for a name or grade or something, but there was nothing.

I was about to just put it back where I found it when the first line caught my eye: If you happen to be reading this, please don't stop; I have to tell someone. Someone has to know. Confused, I flipped to the back again and found that the whole last page was extremely messy. It must have been very rushed. At the bottom of the page, there was a signature: Miki; although, the owner had been in such a hurry, she'd forgotten to dot the second "i."

I thought for a moment. There was only one Miki in the school, and she'd moved away a few days ago. She hadn't seemed the type to do this sort of thing, but then, I hadn't known her very well.

Suddenly the bell rang. I looked at the notebook in my hand. I wasn't sure what to do with it, exactly, but leaving it here now somehow didn't feel quite right. I quickly put it in my bag and headed off to my first class.

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Being a few minutes late didn't matter for my first class. Everyone was late for Mr. Hiyama's class. Always. And if one were to have passed it randomly one day in the middle of its duration, one would have wondered what in the name of holy heaven was happening behind that door, because it would be so noisy.

Kiyoteru Hiyama was a young man in his first year of teaching at this level. He was terribly nice and used to working with grade-schoolers; the 10th graders did nothing but take advantage of his lenience.

So, when I entered, I was not surprised to find Lily, the newest student, standing on her chair and giving an impromptu singing concert. It was obviously a parody of something, because as she stood there, blonde hair swinging along with her to the beat, all the observers laughed. I silently wished I could be so carefree and confident as I took my seat at a table at the back of the room, alone, as always.

I continued watching her, the girl who seemed to have not a single worry to her name, until the door opened to reveal a new student.

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A/N: Anybody who can figure out where the first two chapter names have come from gets a cookie! Please R&R! I'm having a lot of fun writing this story, and I hope you're enjoying it. ^_^