Choices and Faces

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Everyday, we are faced with choices, from picking one's favorite combo at a fast food establishment to the career track one might choose. Some might be small, others can cause a chain of events to take place. What would you do if you were faced with a situation such as this one?

Submitted: July 22, 2008

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Submitted: July 22, 2008

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There she stood in front of the mirror. She heard the faint, quiet rain tapping continuously against the small bathroom window outside, the dew that would make the lawn wet every morning. âSo thatâs why itâs so wet...â she thought to herself as she walked into her bathroom. The towels neatly hung from the bars, the shower curtain stretched so the design of a garden could be appreciated. Just as lovely as the small, tiled room was, so was she. Lovely as she has ever been, yet expressionless in both appearance and tone for the last few days. A beautiful girl with black make up surrounding her dazzling blue eyes, creating contrast with her light ivory skin and dark hair, full of life as many would have said. She gazed at her left hand and stared at her reflection that faced her from the new razor blade she held carefully. She closed her eyes as she clutched to the wooden beaded rosary on the other.

End it all or go on living in a certain household she calls a home, or in her words, Hell. Either one still had its consequences or possibilities. One meant a slow, almost painless death. Sheâd close her eyes and hear the beating of her small, fighting heart deafening right before her as she drifted away into an endless slumber, letting go of the lies, the pain, the hate, everything. Everything would be lost, that she was certain of. Everyone would be devastated. But they would forget about her one day. After all, one person was easy enough to forget. It wasnât like a massive disaster, just a life. One meaningless life, gone. Forgotten. Was that too much to ask for?

She hoped those who urged her to do such thing would be sorry, all those who hurt her, called her names⦠everyone. Everyone would be sorry. Hopefully, there would be a section in the local newspaper announcing her sudden death. Sure, fifteen words were enough. She didnât ask for it, but being remembered for a couple of days would be greatly appreciated.

Why had everyone failed her all of the sudden? Her mother had just become an ignorant woman ever since she got far too involved in the local politics and her step father was nothing but a careless man. It was as if she didnât exist anymore. They no longer talked or shared anything. The only person she confided in had just left her behind for another girl he would be able to see more often and hopefully get in her pants soon. She sighed at the thought, trying to let go of it for the hundredth time. âIt happened long ago, Jenna, stop fussing about it. He doesnât care. He never did,â she thought to herself as she gazed at the rosary she held tightly.

âGod is the answer,â she had seen in numerous ads displayed around the city, near churches, chapels and newspaper every now and then. But what if one didnât believe in a God? What if there was no Heaven or Hell? What if there was no final judgment? These were themes that ran up and down her head constantly, asking questions that were left without answer or reply. She didnât believe that Hell was a place where one would burn up, that was for sure. She didnât believe it was a place one would be tortured either. What if it was a place where Godâs mistakes would be fixed? She has heard the famous phrase countless times. Nothing is perfect. Could God be flawed? If not, why did he leave us to deal with the Earth on our own? Why did he leave behind everything to watch us humans savage and destroy everything from above? If thatâs what heâs doing, he should be either ashamed or laughing at us. âLaughing at me,â she thought as she turned away from the rosary.

Jenna glanced up, at the mirror, the unmistakable girl looking back, sad eyes and scarred heart. âMaybe the scars and wound would heal,â she whispered to herself as she closed her eyes and put a hand over the spot where her beating heart was supposed to be fighting, trying to win the fight. Maybe there was a point in life. Maybe one just had to stand up and lives to figure out oneâs purpose. Sure it was hard, but the journey was worth it, right? Maybe having a heart broken, shattered was something that could be put back together, something that with time would heal and eventually get over. Sure, the scars were still there, but she could move on. Easy, wasnât it? Just forget and live on. Simple? Maybe not, but time could always be promising. It always hd. After all, everything, from a pan of cupcakes to the developing of a child in a womanâs womb took time. Everything did. What mattered was how one used it to make the best out of it.

She gazed at the blade once more. It wasn't a choice that seemed to be as easy as it looked. She was certain that one deep cut was enough. If she hit an artery, she would surely be dead within ten minutes. God knows if less, but the quicker she got this over with, the better. She put it to her wrist and took a deep breath. Her heart raced as if to tell her to wait, that it wasnât the right moment. She closed her eyes as the blade inched closer and closer to her wrist. Her breathing quickened as if her heart sent a warning. It would hurt, of course, but wasnât that all she had to expect? Too bad it was interrupted.

In her room, she heard the sound of a phone ring, her own. She put down the blade on the edge of the sink, carrying the already tangled rosary which was already entwined with her delicate fingers. She hurried to pick it up. âHello?â she asked, trying to regulate her breath.

âJen, oh my, Iâm so glad youâre awake,â she heard through the speaker. âMy Godâ¦â After that short phrase, all she heard was continuous sobbing at the end of the line. âTell me, whatâs wrong?â she asked kindly, trying to sound as if she cared.

âI canât,â her friend said between sobs and cries. âI love him. I love him with all my heart, but I fail to comprehend why it isnât worth my lifeâ¦â

âKelsey, please, donât,â she said in a calm, caring tone, looking at the rosary she clutched tightly in her hand as he nails dug in her pale skin. âHe wasnât worth it, he left you, and he never loved you. He never deserved the love you gave. He never gave it back,â Jenna said, trying to hold back the tears that had already welled up in her eyes.

âThen why did he do it? Why did he leave me acknowledging the fact that I was never fine, that I was mentally illâ¦? Why would anyone do something like this?â she asked. I could hear the incessant roar of the engine in her old car. What exactly was she planning to do? âGod, all I hear are voices in my head telling me to just let go of everything, end it. But I fear I will lose more than just an entire chance at life.â After saying this, a chain of curses followed. I waited until she finished so I could go on.

Jenna sighed and looked at her hand. The marks of her nails already marked her skin. âPlease, come here. I want to see you, talk to you until you have let it all out,â she said.

âI will see you at school. Iâm far away from town,â Kelsey told her as she looked at the rope she had set up on a tree. âBut youâll see me,â she reassured.

âAlright,â Jenna agreed as she sat down on her bed and gazed at the numbers on the clock she had on the nightstand. It read an early 3:27 AM. âDude, we have to sleep,â Jenna reminded her friend. âSchool is tomorrow.â

âYeah, I know. Iâll show up, I guess,â she said. I heard her car roar once more, she was on the move.

They said their goodbyes before hanging up their respective phones. She leaned against the piled pillows she used to sleep on every night as she brought the rosary to her eyes to give it a closer look. It was rather strange that before she took the plunge, a friend, a really close one called stating she also was having problems with making such a drastic choice, but thought about the people she cared for most: her friends.

What would they think if she took the blade and cut? Sure, her problems were serious but it wasnât something that couldnât be dealt with. After all, she would leave her parentsâ home as soon as she packed and left for college in the next few months. She would leave all this behind and build a little by little; she would be able to build a new life from scratch. It would be over and her friends would be there to see the progress.

She sighed and put the rosary on the night stand before she tucked herself in her bed and drifted on to a temporary sleep to charge the life batteries once more. She thought about what might have happened if that razor blade ever made contact with her delicate skin if she ever made the choice. Of course it would bleed, but what would happen around her afterwards? She hadnât forgotten about the blade at the sink yet. Sheâd leave it there for a while. Hopefully, her mother would see it and realize how much she should have paid more attention to her daughter turned monster. Hopefully, she will finally realize how much of a better mother she could have been.


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