Fractured Image

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic


Where did I go wrong? Was it not wearing enough makeup? Dating the wrong guy? Not having enough money? Having the wrong friends? Does that make it okay for them to break me, bully me, until I fall
into a pile of tears, just another used napkin for their entertainment? More worthless than a used tissue. Does anyone care?

Submitted: October 16, 2017

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Submitted: October 13, 2017

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I try to hide, but it always finds me. I try to run, but it always catches me. I run home to try and leave it, but it follows me home. Why does it feel like it’ll never change?

They call me names, they hit me, they spread the rumors that people shouldn’t believe… but they do. They drop my books, crumple my papers, steal my work, doesn’t anyone care? They laugh at my misfortunes, swear at my accomplishments, and round it all off by threatening my friends, is this an unspoken requirement to pass a class?

 

I walk along the edges of the hallway, flinching as people pass me, but I hardly even notice it anymore, it’s just part of who I am now. I reach my locker and I can’t bat an eye anymore as I see the words scratched deep into the paint of my locker and even deeper into my brain. Freak, Idiot, Fake, and it just gets keeps getting better! Stupid, Brat, and Nasty, I don’t look up as I see new black smudges there too, the black smoke that plagues my life, smothering me. Stinky, Trash, Loser, do they not see that I’m broken already? Failure, Fat, Ugly, if I was gone, would anyone care? Worthless, Disgusting, Useless, Psychotic, Alone, Pathetic, Hopeless, Moronic, Mental, Unwanted, Nerd, Geek, Pig!

 

I slam my locker shut and stand there staring at the new words etched across the door;

If you were gone, freak, no one would even notice.

 

I dropped my books, startling everyone around me. I could hear them snickering, but I just ran, half-blinded by tears and impaired by my own sorrow. The insults were a chant in my head;

Pathetic, Freak, Brat, Useless. If you were gone, Trash, Loser, Idiot. No one would notice, Nerd, Geek, Pig.

 

I had words of my own because I knew what I was, Broken, Lost, Scared, Scarred, Lonely, Friendless, Bullied, Tired. I was done, they bullied me and they didn’t know me. They didn’t know what I was capable of. Victim, Sad, Depressed, Unloved, Sick, Unsafe, Nervous, Confused. Maybe I’m a sought after victim with all the different handwriting graffiti on my locker.

 

I rubbed my nose on my sleeve and look up. The bathroom. Great, either I’ll be called these names to my face or I’ll have to deal with being pushed around, spit at, or something even worse. Or maybe there’ll be a miracle and the bathrooms are mysteriously empty, like someone just erased all of the villains of the story with a swipe of their eraser.

 

I swallow and walk in, my head down and shoulders sagging from the weight of the words crushing me. Stupid, Jerk, Gossip, Death. I look up at myself in the mirror, but I don’t recognize the girl there anymore. Tear stained skin, regretful mind, and the shine gone from my eyes, once bright and full of hope. Now, only a zombie remains, showing up at classes but no one trying to understand. A vampire, feeling the wooden stake plunged deep into my heart at every word uttered next to my name.

 

If only someone had stayed by my side, weathered the storm of words and held on tight. My hands slammed down on the sink, and I turned the faucet on with shaking hands, but the water was no match for my salty tears, running the race down to my chin and down to the drain where creatures less abominable than me thrive.

 

I wish I could say that I see who I used to be. The girl who was loved, funny, friendly, outgoing, sharing, kind, loving, beautiful. The girl people wished to be friends with. The one who everyone knew everything about. The open book. But lies tarnish images, no matter how ridiculous they are, or how twisted the truth becomes, the false things are never forgotten. It's always remembered. They add up and it gets to the point where even I begin believing that they’re true. Words complicate everything. I always thought it was funny how fast your life can change from a single false statement. When no one tries to understand. When no one wants to understand.

 
 
 


© Copyright 2018 Rayna DeShano. All rights reserved.

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