Promise I Will

10

Step. Step. Step.

Each foot goes out in front of me, moving me forward. The cold pavement coming in contact with my feet. The grey colour not changing as my feet hit it.

Pebbles fly as my feet rise to take another step. The shoes I wear, wore and torn, but shine like a star as they protect my feet. The fabric shredded but worn with pride.

I grunt as I look up and see my home. A few more meters and I would be walking up the steps and into my home. My mother will ask where I have been and why I'm late coming home. My father will calm her down and I will plead not to ground me.

As old as I am, I still get grounded. No books for a week. No writing in your journal for the day. Most kids would get their video games or phones taken away. But I'm not most kids.

I'm me. I hate me.

I sniffle a tear away and take deep breaths. It won't kill you; I tell myself.

The wooden steps creak and wobble as my weight is applied. I take a hold I the handle and turn it clockwise.

"Anna? Anna, is that you?" My father's voice croaks.

"Yes," I call.

"Why are you late?" He comes into sight from around the corner.

"I had.... I had homework club." I lie.

"Oh... Well dinners ready." He turns and leaves without any more question. I sigh, relieved.

* * *

Dear diary,

Today was horrible. It happened again. They bullied me to the point I went under, I'm not sure I will be able to return. I have been here all night, hating myself. It's already 12:00 pm and I still keep thinking of everything they did. The rope coming out of the bag. The evil smirk on her face. The pound in my stomach that was infuriating. It burned, causing tears to spill out, only showing my weakness. The logical thing is for me to say that I don't know why they hate me. That I don't know why they want me gone, and why they think I'm those god-awful things they say to me. But I can't. I know why they hate me. I'm me. I'm just me and I'm starting to be afraid to show it. And now... I'm starting to hate me too.

I've been wondering why Carson even said he promised. Why he even talked to me...? Why Bailey talked to me even though he found me in the dump? Why did Wyatt stick up for me?

Why?

* * *

I dread the moment my alarm goes off in my ear, singing and yelling, the radio. How can these people on the radio be for happy? I despise them or maybe I'm just jealous...

I crawl out of bed, flinging the blankets and sheets off of my body. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and trudging to the washroom across the hall.

What a day this will be... I can already feel the weight being added to my shoulders. And the day hasn't even officially started yet.