Lost Girl

1

I grip the cold railing under my hands and pull myself up onto the ledge. The height makes my stomach turn, but I stand up on the metal, thirty feet above the rushing river under me. It's dark, the velvet blanket of stars, as bright as ever. The fresh bruise on my back is an aching reminder of how pathetic my life is. There is no point in going on. Why suffer? Why go on for any longer, when I know I wont last? What's the point?

I look down at the river, imagining falling into the darkness there. Imagine it taking over me, never having to go through the works of another day, and I laugh. It comes out harsh, like I've smoked one to many cigarettes. It's funny how your life can change before your eyes. Not just the people around you. But you, yourself, can change also. And not just the way you dress, or act. Not just your likes and dislikes. But the way you see yourself, and the way you view the world around you.

If someone would've told me, four years ago, that I would be standing on a bridge now, thinking about how extremely wonderful it would be to jump off...I would've laughed in their face at the bad joke. I use to be a normal girl. I had friends, well, good friends. I was on the soccer team. Rode to games with Kristen Taylor and Maggie Wright. Two of the most popular girls at Bothwell High School. We used to go out for pizza afterwards and have huge slumber parties where we painted each others nails and talked about the boys that we liked. That was when I was normal. Before my life changed before my eyes.

I was thirteen when it happened the first time. I remember it like it was yesterday. At that point in time, it was the worst day ever for me. I was in seventh grade and my Aunt Sabrina had just given me a brand new pair of silver hoop earrings, they had diamonds along the side and I loved them. I thought they made me look more like a Sofmore. But when I wore them to school that day, Maggie was mad.

"Hoops are my thing, Abby! You know that!" Maggie screamed, dragging me by my arm into the girls bathroom. The wooden door slammed behind us and the two other girls, that were standing at the sink fixing their lip gloss, rushed out past us, whispering. "What are you, stupid?" Maggie screeched.

Although, I thought it to be a rhetorical question, I said, "no, my aunt got them for me. I couldn't hurt her feelings!" I told her. I loved those earrings, and Maggie hated anyone being pretty or happy around her. Even her friends. Her dad is one of the highest paid lawyers in Iowa. And her mom is a pretty successful realtor. They live in something similar to a mansion, overlooking the town golf course. Maggie has gotten anything she's asked for since the day she was born. I knew she was completely spoiled rotten, and a two faced-lying-boyfriend-stealing-no-good...well the point is, I knew she was a horrible friend, but, slumber parties at her house were a thirteen year olds dream.

When we weren't swimming in her pool, or watching Jesse McCartney on her flat screen. We were getting manicures and pedicures by her moms personal stylists. Not to mention, Maggie's brother, Spencer, was a god in my eyes. And when he played the guitar...my heart melted.

"Well, your aunts not here now, is she?!" Maggie demanded. "Take them out!" I didn't see what the big deal was. So what if I was wearing hoop earrings? Who cares? It's just like Maggie's "everyone where's pink on Wednesdays" rule. And right up there with her "no dating guys that are younger then you" rule.

"Maggie, I like them. Why cant I wear them?" I asked, but it came out whiny. Her face turned beat red.

"Because, I said no!" she said through her teeth and she grabbed for them, her hands closing around a clump of my brown hair instead, and she pulled. I cried out at the shearing pain in my skull, and shoved her into the sink, making her lose her grip on my hair.

"What is wrong with you?" I yelled at her, and a sly grin came across her lips. "They're just earrings!"

"I want them!" she said. I should've seen that one coming. Maggie has everything, and when someone else has something that, miraculously, she doesn't, she finds a way to get it.