Can You Hear My Scream

Stella, 2:30 PM

Stella:

2:30 PM.

    That's it. The bell rang. I arrived back in class not too long ago. I spent almost an hour in the bathroom. No one noticed. No one cared. Everyone ignored me, no one bothered to talk to me. I just continued to work on my worksheet. Since the bell rung, I gathered my papers and put them neatly into my folder. I didn't have to go to my locker, so I just tried to push through the crowded halls to get to the exit. I ended up walking past a bunch of the cool kids.

    “Hey, have you seen that Stella kid? What's her deal? She thinks she's so smart, having her work showed on the board. Please, I could do that if I tried!” One girl said.

    “And why does she always have a sweater on? It’s really hot both inside and outside!” One boy pointed out.

    “To top it all off she's an ugly wanna-be who will get nowhere in life!” Another boy pointed out. Everyone started laughing.

    I ran past everyone pushing and crying. I slammed the bathroom door open and ran into a stall. I couldn't stop the tears from coming down. I opened my bag and took out my scissors. I took of my sweater too. I kept on slashing at my innocent, pure skin. At this point I didn't care where I was cutting or why. I didn't care if all my skin was going to have scars on them. I just kept cutting and writing words of discouragement on myself.

    After a while I had stopped. I heard another girl sobbing in another stall. I tensed up, and thought how stupid I was. Why didn't you hear her before? Stupid Stella, you should've been cautious! This time I knew I couldn't of have washed my arms clean, so I had no other option than to use my hand sanitizer, because I couldn't get any blood stains on my sweater, or else my parents would find out.

    Here goes nothing. Remember Stella, you're stupid and you deserve all the pain you can get. I opened the bottle and squeezed some into my hand. Without thinking, I quickly rubbed it all over my left arm. At first I didn't feel anything, but after a while, the stinging was unbearable. I sobbed in pain, letting out a few little quiet squeaks here and there. I repeated the same steps with my right hand, except this time the pain was worse.

    I quickly threw on my sweater and put away my scissors. I swung my bag onto my shoulder and wiped my face. I put on the fake smile I put on everyday, showing the fake me. The girly girl who is average in school. I opened the stall and walked out the door. The girl sobbing came out of her stall, too. It was Lyra, Lyra from the other 8th grade class. I waved at her. She waved back.

    “Lyra, are you alright?” I asked her.

    “Never been better! I was just uh, was on my period… and my stomach is getting really bad cramps.” Lyra pushed it off. I knew she was lying. I just went with it.

    “Oh, okay. Well, I'll see you around. Bye!” I said as I left the bathroom and headed straight for the exit. I didn't look back once. I walked to the train station, dying to get home, the place where I could be alone and at peace.