Nightingale (Haleb)

1

Hanna-
I sit here on the side of the bridge. I have a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of Rum in the other.

I take another gulp of the Rum and it burns down my throat but I like the feeling.

I lift my jacket up to reveal some scars on my arms. I smile at them. They all have a memory behind them.

I touch the one from when me and Aria first fought. Then I touched the one from when I saw Travis cheating on me. I touched the other two from when he forced me to sleep with him.

I laugh to myself. I refuse to cry. I don't cry. Crying means I'm weak, and I don't want to show my weak side. I have to be strong for everyone.

"Why? They don't even care about you." I say to myself.

I sigh and think back to the fight me and my best friend Aria had.

"Hanna! Just stop okay? I have more important things to deal with right now, I don't want to hear this story again! Maybe if you would have just left the situation alone in the first place, he would never have forced you to do anything." She says.

"Oh, so now you saying this is my fault?!?!! Why do you always blame everything on me?!!!? Are you like little miss prefect? I mean you are the one dating a teacher... Our teacher to be exact." I snap at her.

"Because everything is your fault Hanna! It always is! Do you not get it?" "Is this how you really feel?" I ask her. "Yes! This is how everyone feels, we just keep quiet about it, but I can't do it anymore! You need to I know the truth, and Hanna, I'm telling you what people think about you." She yells.

I look around the table and I see my friends sitting down looking around. "Is this true guys? Do you feel this way?" I ask. They don't respond. "Fine then whatever. See if I care, and let's see who will take time out of their day to listen to you when you have a problem." I say and leave. I push past Alison. People love her. People hate me. She has always and will always be better than me. At anything.

I get up and take my razor out of my pocket. Guess it's time for some more.

I put it to my arm and cut. Then I look down the cliff and think 'what the hell'. I throw my razor, my lighter, my pack of cigars, and my bottle of Rum down the hill. I pull my jacket on and stand up.

I look over the cliff and look down. I walk forward and I proceed to jump.