I Am Unworthy Read online

  I AM UNWORTHY

  ANGELA MACK

  Copyright © 2020 ANGELA MACK

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the author has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  www.angelamackwriter.com

  For all the everyday heroes that have made a difference to someone else's life, no matter how small. Thank you.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Isabel

  You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

  I leaned closer to the bathroom mirror, scrutinizing my reflection through narrowed eyes. I tilted my head left and right, checking my makeup at different angles. If you looked close enough, you could still see the puffiness under my eyes, but it was passable. I didn’t usually wear much but I had barely slept the past couple of days. Well, the past week really. The bags under my eyes had been so dark that it looked like I had dirt smeared underneath them. I had probably used half my concealer just to look semi-presentable, but it was important that I felt good today. That I felt confident. I wanted today to go well. Really well. I wanted to get off to a good start. No, I needed to get off to a good start.

  I looked down and saw that my knuckles were white from gripping the edges of the sink so fiercely. Shit, I was nervous. I couldn’t have another two years like the last couple. I could feel the panic building, clawing at my throat and restricting my oxygen. Deep breaths, deep breaths. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what my perfect day would be like. I would walk through those doors with my head held high. I would have a smile on my face and look carefree. Almost happy to be there. No one would be able to ruin my good mood, because I didn’t give a shit about what anyone else thought. I. Didn’t. Give. A. Shit. That was my new mantra.

  The last couple of years at school hadn't exactly been enjoyable. OK, they’d been hideous. I'd made the mistake of trying to do a good deed and it had come back to bite me on the arse.

  I had been friends with a group of girls and honestly, I'm uncertain how I became friends with them in the first place. I never quite felt like I fit in with them. But they were nice enough and I had most of my classes with them, so I kind of fell into their friendship group. Most of them had grown up together and had been friends since primary school. My family and I had moved into the area right before I started at Gilleford Secondary School, so naturally, I hadn't bonded with them in quite the same way.

  The whole group was pretty popular, not Mean Girls popular, but everyone knew their names and wanted to hang out with them. Ellie Sparks was the most charismatic of the bunch. She was short, a little over five feet, and very curvy. She wasn't the skinny, supermodel type you see in American high school TV shows, but she was still beautiful. She had a round symmetrical face, big blue eyes, and long blonde hair almost to her waist. She had developed early, which the boys loved, and had a great smile. I didn't have a lot in common with her, but it was easy enough to have a superficial conversation with her.

  Ellie liked to be bold and stand out from the crowd. Two years ago, she entered into a 'grunge phase,' which was unusual considering the school was dominated by chavs wearing designer labels. Ellie bucked the trend, started wearing heavy eyeliner and listening to Linkin Park and Blink 182. Obviously, everyone in the group started doing the same thing (I'm ashamed to admit that I was also a sheep) and soon she set her sights on a guy with a skinhead and several body piercings.

  Jonny was unusual too in the sense that he was charming and likeable. Most of the grungers at school were grumpy, introverted and didn't mix with non-grungers. Jonny, on the other hand, could get along with almost anyone. He was tall, had well-defined arms and shoulders but wasn't overly stocky. He was attractive, for a grunger. Even with the ear stretchers, nose and lip piercings and shaved head.

  I think Ellie surprised herself by how hard she fell for him. They were together for about six months, when I overheard a girl gossiping at the back of class one day. She was bragging about how intimate she and Jonny had been at a party over the weekend. And by intimate, I mean that she described in detail a certain sexual act that she had performed. She was another grunger, with black hair and dark brown eyes and pale skin. She was the complete opposite of Ellie.

  I struggled, not knowing whether I should say something or keep it to myself. Eventually the guilt I felt for not saying anything was too much. Before biology one day, I pulled Ellie aside in a quiet corridor and explained what I had heard. She had cried, flung her arms around me and thanked me for telling her. I had floated home that day, feeling as light as a feather. Little did I realise how pivotal that moment in my school life had been.

  The next day I had come to school and strolled over to the benches where our group always sat. There were boys hanging around nearby as per usual and in fact, most of the girls in the group were coupled up. As I approached, the couples had all stopped chatting and turned to stare at me. I felt like I was a caged animal in a zoo. And that’s when the bullying started.

  “Lying bitch.”

  “Sneaky little shit.”

  “She just wanted him for herself…”

  Apparently, Ellie had confronted Jonny and he had denied the whole thing. For good measure, he had told her that I was often flirting with him behind her back and he thought I was trying to split them up on purpose. Even though it was obviously, completely untrue, the whole group had turned on me in an instant. The boys ignored me from then on out, as if I didn’t exist. The girls, however, were vicious. They made up rumours about my sex life (which was non-existent), shouted out disgusting and embarrassing things in the middle of classes (I still cringed when I thought back to the shouts of “Isabel has a fishy fanny” part-way through English class) and went out of their way to be spiteful. Ellie was the ring-leader, but it seemed like there was no end to the amount of girls that would happily join in on her taunts.

  The teachers were useless, pretending they didn't hear the vulgar shouts. I tried so hard to tune it all out, ignoring them and praying they’d get bored after enough time. I even started wearing one headphone during classes, listening to music to block out the background noise, but still being able to hear my teachers. After a couple of unrelenting weeks, I gave up on that tactic and p
ut both my headphones in. I slumped down at the back of class, turning my music up as loud as it could go before the teachers would notice. I didn’t care that I was missing out on what was being taught. I just didn’t want to hear them anymore.

  I had always had reasonably good grades, but my As and Bs soon started dropping to Cs and Ds. Some weeks were so unbearably humiliating that I began faking illnesses and skipping lessons. I prayed to a God that I didn’t believe in that they would stop sooner or later. Surely, someone else would unwittingly stumble into their firing line? I was a terrible human being really, hoping that some other poor soul would swap places with me and bear the brunt of their bullying. But I’d take all the bad karma in the world if it meant they would stop. They didn’t though. Two years later and I was still cowering in the school bathroom before classes.

  I opened my eyes and glared. I was sure the mirror was going to shatter under the force of my stare. I gritted my teeth, grinding them from side to side. It wasn’t going to be like that anymore. This was the first day of sixth form and it was going to be completely different. I didn’t give a shit, remember? I was a new person with new confidence and nothing bothered me. It was all like water off a duck’s back. Yep, that was me. Couldn’t care less what anyone thought. And besides, I wouldn’t be alone anymore and the bullies wouldn’t be here anyway.

  My reflection shrugged nonchalantly in the mirror as I tried to get into character. If I acted like I didn’t care, eventually it would be true. Right? I pulled my shoulders back and strode confidently from the bathroom. I wouldn’t waste any more time hiding in there, no siree. It was like I had tunnel vision. I was going to get to that sixth form common room and I was going to get there without incident. But even if someone did shout something at me, it wouldn’t matter. I. Didn’t. Give. A. Shit. I just hoped that no one noticed the tremble in my legs, the beads of sweat gathering at my brow, or that I was practically running. Kind of ruined the self-assured facade I was going for, really.

  I hesitated for a split second before I pushed open the double doors of the common room in front of me. I scanned the room. Please be here, please be here. My persona started to falter even more as each second ticked by that I couldn’t see them. I was about to turn and bolt when I caught someone waving at me out of the corner of my eye. My smile slipped back into place as I relaxed, sauntering over as if I wasn’t the most terrified person in the world and about to have a meltdown.

  “Hey Izzy. Didn’t think we’d abandoned you, did ya?” Sophie smiled as I sat down.

  “And even if we had, it wouldn’t have mattered. Right?” Jess winked.

  “Because I don’t give a shit!” The three of us chorused together, making me laugh. Jess had been the one to come up with that particular chant, encouraging me to use it every time I felt even slightly anxious.

  I had befriended Jess and Sophie over the summer break. They both lived in Woodley End too, a little village on the very outskirts of Gilleford, Suffolk. Originally a small, lazy village set in the middle of rolling hills and vast farmland, a couple of developers had purchased some of the arable terrain about ten years ago. New build housing estates had started popping up all over ever since. My house was at the start of one of these estates, down a quiet street with a forest at the end of it. I absolutely loved where we lived and this increased even more when the bullying started; few people from school lived anywhere near us. It was a good twenty-minute bus journey from central Gilleford, where most other students lived. At least I’d had a reprieve at weekends and didn’t have to worry much about bumping into anyone.

  This was true even though I worked every Saturday at a florist in town, Buttercups. It was amongst a little parade of shops near the high street, but teenagers don’t tend to visit florists. Most of the kids I knew didn’t work at all and wouldn’t be awake any earlier than 10 a.m. on a Saturday. This meant that even my bus journey into work was mostly uneventful. Occasionally I’d come across someone whilst waiting at the bus stop to go home, but even if someone did screech obscenities at me, it didn’t bother me as much. I would soon be home and away from them.

  Don’t get me wrong, my parents were financially stable and always gave me money when I asked for it. But they had wanted me to learn the value of money early on. I had started working at the florist a little over a year ago when I turned sixteen and was pleasantly surprised by how independent I felt. It was only minimum wage, but that was a fair bit of money for someone who didn’t have any friends to go out with. Still, if I wanted to buy a new book or some new clothes, I could make most of the purchases myself without asking my parents for money. It was very self-gratifying. In fact, it felt like the only positive thing in my life. I always counted down the days of the week until Saturday.

  One afternoon, two girls had walked into the florist. I recognized them and knew that they attended my school. I had seen them around and they had never said anything untoward to me, but I felt the familiar pang of anxiety swirl through my stomach. You never knew when someone would have the sudden urge to be unkind.

  The shop owner, a gentle middle-aged lady called Mary, was currently in the back room checking a delivery. She would be out there for at least another ten minutes, making sure the delivery driver was being careful with the flowers and ensuring all the stock had arrived. I knew I was going to have to serve them. There was no chance of me hiding in the back room. I plastered on my fake ‘customer smile,’ took a deep breath, and asked how I could help.

  “Hey. It’s Isabel, right?” the brunette asked. She was short, pale with freckles and had mousy brown hair. She was pretty in a very natural way, despite the layers of makeup she had caked on. I nodded at her.

  “I’m Jess and this is Sophie,” she said, gesturing to the girl next to her. Sophie was a similar height but where Jess was skinny, Sophie had a very athletic build. She was probably the same dress size as Jess (they were both easily an eight) but her arms were toned and she had shapely legs. Her long, blonde hair was wavy and thick and she was very tanned, as if she spent a long time outside in the sun. Sophie smiled and I could feel relief begin to creep up on me, albeit reluctantly. They seemed harmless enough. I hoped.

  “It’s my mum’s birthday today and we’re having some family and friends over. I wanna surprise her with a bunch of flowers, around twenty quid please,” Jess said. I was grateful to be able to turn away and break eye contact. I appraised our flower display, plucking a selection of my favourite seasonal blossoms. I soon had a bright bunch ready, filled with yellow gerbera daisies, yellow roses and a couple of sunflowers. She paid, smiled her thanks and both girls turned to leave. Jess hesitated as she reached the door, turning back to me. My heart leapt into my throat, certain she was about to fling out a parting snide comment.

  “Are you doing anything tonight?” she asked instead. I shook my head, wary of where this was going.

  “Would you like to come? To my mum’s birthday get-together, I mean? You only live a few streets over from me and my dad keeps telling me ‘the more the merrier.’ So you should come, if you want to…?” Was this a trick? Why was she asking me? Would there be other girls from school going and she only wanted to lure me over for some more humiliation? I could hear my pulse roaring in my ears.

  “I’m the only other person from school going. The rest are Jess’s mum’s friends or close family. But it should still be cool,” Sophie chimed in, as if reading my mind. To this day, I’m not sure what made Jess ask me and I have no idea what possessed me to agree, but it was the start of a great friendship between the three of us. We were inseparable all summer after that. My parents were so relieved when my disposition improved. I had never confided in them what was happening at school, so my drop in grades and mood swings had confused them. They suspected something was going on when I stopped socializing and buried myself in books. I was doing anything I could to escape reality. My mum often tried to coax it out of me, but I knew she wouldn’t understand. The bullying was never physical and I thought I w
ould sound weak that I couldn’t handle some name-calling. I also didn’t want her intervening in any way. She was fiercely protective of me, both my parents were as I was their only child, but they would only make things worse.

  Still, none of that mattered now. Sixth form was a fresh start. As Jess and Sophie chatted about the latest series on Netflix that they were binge watching, I coolly glanced around. The three of us were grouped together near the entrance doors, our plastic chairs pulled together. My gaze flitted across the faces of the other students in the room, being careful not to make eye contact. I didn't want to draw attention to myself.

  "She's not here, Iz. I already told you. I even double-checked Facebook this morning in case there were any last-minute changes. But there weren't." Jess had a glimmer of pity in her eyes as she reassured me, yet again, that Ellie wouldn't be here.

  I had deleted my Facebook account last year when Ellie and her friends had started up cyber-bullying. It clearly wasn’t good enough to just do it face to face. Jess knew how nervous I was about coming back, so had kept tabs on everyone. She happily informed me every time someone posted an excited update, confirming that they were doing something other than attending Gilleford Sixth Form College after summer. Crucially, Ellie was not returning this year as she had chosen an apprenticeship in hairdressing instead.

  Jess and Sophie had never witnessed Ellie’s cruelty towards me. Gilleford Secondary School had hundreds of kids attending, so it wasn’t surprising that we hadn’t had any classes together previously, or seen each other in the canteen at lunchtime. However, everyone had heard of Isabel Johnson, the jealous, lanky girl who tried to steal Ellie Sparks' boyfriend, and who deserved everything she got.

  But this year I was going to be Isabel Johnson, the girl who, yep you guessed it, didn't give a shit.

  Chapter 2