“24, 01, 15” I heaved tears in my eyes. I clicked to the last number, and it didn’t open.
Shit! I banged my hand on the locker.
“okay, think. 24, 21, 15” I spun faster and with each click a tear trickled down my cheek.
It still didn’t open.
“COME THE FUCK ON!” I banged, kicked, slapped, and even spit on the locker before finally breaking down and collapsing on the floor into a pile of nothing. Because that’s what I was. Nothing.
Days passed and immediately from being the popular Ke – dollar sign – ha girl that everyone looked up too, I went back to being old Ellen at the bottom of the social chain. Except this time it was much worse. First it started out with the confrontation during lunch but the next day dirty stares, and silent whispers. No one. And I mean NO ONE, talked to me all day. What was most embarrassing was when I tried to start conversation with people they would stare at me dead in the eyes, obviously knowing I was talking to them and just walked away, without even thinking twice about it. I cried for three days straight. Finally I decided to just chopped off my hair, made it shoulder length and let my fiery red color come back naturally.
It wasn’t until a month or so later that people started talking to me, and when they did it was short answers, and minimal questions.
It was a long hard day and I really didnt feel like being bothered with anyone. But while I was in the computer lab, I saw Justin without Missy. I was so happy to see him. I waved him over and surprisingly he sat down in the empty seat next to me.
YOU ARE READING
Cut Too Deep
Teen FictionEllen Dodson is not your average high school girl. She has depression and no friends. When Ellen was younger her father cheated with a next door neighbor leaving Ellen, her sister Natalie, and her mother Linda to fend for themselves. Linda is a alco...
