Stand up for yourself

I woke up this morning with a frown. That dream, it hurts just remembering it. Those words, it broke me. Every morning I’d wake up with a frown, never a smile. Is it wrong being miserable every day? Having nothing worth waking up for?

     I can still feel the sting of the cuts from yesterday. I cut too deep this time. Oh well, it doesn’t really matter anymore. I’m used to the stings.

     I got up from my bed and got ready for school. I looked in the mirror. I saw a 5’4 girl with curly, auburn hair. She wore a plain, black shirt tucked into her denim pants. She had a big, square shaped black belt around her waist.

     I looked at my scars and contemplated about how deep I’ll cut tonight. “No worries, it won’t hurt. I’m used to the pain.”

     “Sky! Come down and eat your breakfast,” my dad said.

     I walked downstairs and looked at my dad. He looked the same as always, still wearing his plain white shirt and denim jeans. His straight, medium length, black hair and bushy eye brows made him look a little younger.

     I love my dad. He’s been there for me since my mom left with her boyfriend. I don’t talk to her anymore, she’s nothing in my life now. My dad has been there since the start.

     “I’m not hungry, dad,” I replied.

     “Eat a little bit, come on kiddo. You’re too skinny!” my dad exclaimed.

     “No, I’m fine. I’m going to school now, alright?”

     “Fine. Goodbye sweetheart, have a nice day!”

     I walked out the door and headed for school. Once I got to school, I saw my best friend, Asher. He stood there, smiling at me. We’ve been friends since 5^th grade. We’re now Juniors at George Washington High school. He’s 17, I’m 16. He has brown, straight hair. He’s 5’9. He’s absolutely gorgeous.

     “Hey there, Sky. How’d your morning turn out? Did you-” He took my arm and turned it around, exposing my cuts. “Sky Shea Lamerson, why on earth are you cutting again? Stop it!”

     I could hear the worry in his voice. The only time he actually uses my full name is when he’s completely serious. I pulled my arm back with full force since he was gripping on it tightly. “The dreams, no, the nightmares, they're back. The words…”

     “Sky… Stop the nonsense. Just because the awful dreams are back, doesn’t mean you can go around and cut yourself like its nothing. I know they tease you and crap, but that doesn’t give you a reason to cut,” he uttered. He was dead serious.

     “I’m sorry…” I wailed, nearly tearing.

     “It’s okay, Sky. Just stop this, okay? I know the dreams hurt, I know the words hurt, just stop. Please?”

     I nodded, wiping my eyes from the small tears that welled up. We walked to my lockers. I saw some girls snicker at me. “Oh look, it’s the freak,” one girl said.

     “What a moron.”

     “Emo.”

     “I hope you die, you little w***e.”

     We just walked pass them. The words, they hurt. Every day I go through this. I get verbally abused. One time, a girl went up to me, punched me for no reason at all and left me crying on the floor. I ask myself, when will I ever have the courage to stand up to these girls? Never, probably. I’m too weak.

     In my dreams, I get beaten up by all those girls at school. I lay there on the school floor, bleeding to death. No one tries to help me. My mom, she walks right pass me like I’m just a piece of paper. The girls pass by me and laugh like killing someone is funny. Those hurtful words wander through my head.

     I’m constantly bullied every day. The only time I was free from being bullied is when I was 5. Kindergarten, the only school year I wasn’t bullied. This has been going on for too long already.

     Asher walked to his classroom. I just stood next to my classroom and waited for my teacher. The girls kept shouting out hurtful words. “You know what?” I said. “You silly girls. You don’t realize how much I go through. You don’t know my story, nor have you walked into my shoes. You see these?” I showed them my wrists. “Yeah, they’re cuts. I cut, that doesn’t mean I’m emo. I’m a virgin, I don’t see how I can be a w***e. How am I a freak and you’re not? You’re the ones who cake your face with make up just to look like a wannabe Barbie. Who’s the freak now? And yes, I will die, but I guarantee it won’t be anytime soon. So deal with it. You have no right to judge me if you don’t know what the hell I’ve been going through.”

     I turned around and saw that a crowd of people were behind me, including Asher. I guess they heard me from their classrooms. They clapped for me. I finally stood up for myself!

    

    

Author's Note

It's my first story. I would appreciate some tips.

Reviews

[Forgotten]

good start! keep working at it