“Rise and shine darling, it’s another lovely and sunny day ahead!”
Your mum bursts into your room at 7am every morning filled with joy and happiness, swings open your curtains, kisses your forehead before she leaves for work saying these words, another lovely day. It’s not a lovely day is it though? What could possibly be lovely, about going to school for six hours five days a week, the same bitchy stuck up girls putting you down, the same group of people sniggering at you as you shyly unconfidently walk past, because your over weight, have a spot, your hairs a little messy today, or because you’re not wearing the most up to date shoes, or the most fashionable clothes. Going to lessons, and being made fun of for being clever, and getting called a teacher’s pet for trying to get somewhere in life, or the opposite, for getting an answer wrong in class, getting put down for trying to expand on your knowledge. Sitting alone at break, and lunch, because your friends have realised they get more attention from boys if they hang around with the “populars” yet they had a friend for life in you? But they still chose popularity and boys over a friend who would have been there 24/7 and by their side through everything? The bell goes for end of the day, you see your once best friend walk straight past you holding the most popular guys hand. Everyone hugging and saying goodbye, but you? Your just there. On your own. Again. You get pushed about in the corridors by herds of people laughing and joking, and you think to yourself ‘That was me once. That was me laughing, and joking around with my friends, where did it all go so wrong?’ and that’s what goes through your head over and over again, all the way home, alone, with dark thoughts creeping in from the loneliest, most eeriest part of your mind, and slowly, them thoughts start to control you, they become like a disease, a disease that you can’t get rid of. You get home, viciously throw your bag into the corner of the room, and effortlessly jump down onto your bed. Staring at the blank ceiling. 3:30pm. Home alone, again, no one to talk to, just a room with four walls, and a ceiling you stare upon every day. You grab for your laptop and open it, and wait for your face-book page to load, as it does you sit up, you freeze at what your eyes are scanning, you want to stop reading it but you can’t, you want to be able to turn back time and not read what you have, but you can’t, you carry on reading what it says, it gets worse and worse the more you read, you see people joining into the conversation, even who you once called your best friend. Comments reading “did you see what she was wearing today?! GROSE!” or “ where did she get that hair style from?re-volt-ing!” the worst was yet to come “She’s so fat she takes up the whole corridor when she walks past, her face makes me want to be sick! Her hair is like totally vile, and who did her makeup, a blind person?! Her shoes are so out dated, and she wears clothes like my gran would wear! She smells so bad has she never heard of soap? She has no friends either because they can’t stand the smell! Freckle face.” you see the comment was from the girl you told everything too. Every secret, fear, wish and worry. Who you’d hug goodbye every day. Share crazy stories with. And now? She’s pushing you closer over the edge. You sit there. Eyes filling up with tears, rock hard lump appears in your throat, you turn an icy white colour, goose bumps, and you let out a silent scream, your tears roll off your cheeks and hit your trembling knees, the question re-appears in your mind, ‘how did everything get so bad?’ you lie down, with blood shot eyes, wishing everything was different, your face starts burning from the streams of tears rushing down your face and hitting your pillow. You close your eyes, and cry yourself to sleep, thinking of everything that was said, what would be said tomorrow, how you’d react, and what you’d say back, but somewhere in these thoughts you shut off and cut the world out, you enter a land with no fears, just peace and serenity, somewhere you feel safe, which you haven’t felt in a long time. Minutes, turn into hours and the next sound you hear is your Mom.
“Rise and shine darling, it’s another lovely and sunny day ahead!”
7 Am. Kiss on the head, and she’s gone. You smile, until you remember what horrors lay ahead of you. The walk to school, is like none before. You feel anxious, terrified, and heartbroken, heartbroken at the fact you’re on your own, no-one to fight your corners, to stick up for you, or a shoulder to lean on and tell everything to. You have yourself, your broken self, and your mind, that runs wild with creepy thoughts. Bell rings for first lesson, and as soon as you step into the corridors, the pushing, the laughing, the pointing all starts, “hey fatty, where you get your shoes from? The trash bin?” you tell them to shut up and go away making matters worse “did you guys hear something? Sounded like an irritating fat ugly rat to me!” You run to the bathroom and sob, missing your whole first lesson, when teachers ask, you smile and say your fine, just an upset stomach, the whole day goes by with the same excuse for each lesson, each answer to teachers queries “I’m fine”. When the bell goes for end of day you don’t hesitate to run out and you don’t stop till you get home. No One’s home, you reach for your laptop, hesitating to open it, but you do, you rip open and stare at the screen and see more comments, a page created about you, more people joining the group each second. This same routine goes on for the next eight months. Getting worse and worse, you’re getting weaker and weaker and struggling to cope with it all, you found a way to cope, called Self Harm. Every night you’d take the silver shiny metal and slice it across your beautiful delicate skin, cutting it open, and telling yourself you deserve it, 1 turned into 10, ten turned into 100 and now you have thousands of scars and cuts all over your once un cut body. Your parents and siblings don’t notice. You wear long sleeved clothes and Jeans, and bracelets for fashion. You cry yourself to sleep every night, wake up every morning smile and kiss your mom like nothing’s wrong, and she doesn’t have the slightest clue of what’s going on. You don’t tell anyone how you’re struggling to cope, and self-harming to deal with the low life bullies making you feel like that’s your only option. But one day, you let everyone know what’s been going on. Your mom comes back from work to find her darling daughter lifeless and cold on the bathroom floor, surrounded by pills. She silently stares at your icy white froze body through the door way, feeling like her whole world was crashing in on her, she struggles to breathe, each breath getting more difficult to catch, she knows your dead, she forcefully drops to her knees and stares at you getting lost in your face with no emotion. She thinks about your last thought, your last breath, your last cry for help, but no one was there, no one had ever been there. Her beautiful daughter covered in scars is now dead, no going back, no turning around time. Reality is something that needed to be faced. She uses all the energy she has to slide across the floor and cradle your dead weight body, holding you like she did when you took your first breath. But this time is a lot different, no cheers, no balloons, no smiles, no happiness, no wide eyed baby gazing into her eyes, the only thing staring into her eyes now was death. She lets out an ear piercing scream over your body, crying relentlessly, but no amount of tears or screams will bring you back. Your dead, your gone, there’s no coming back.