Memoirs of a Suicidal Teen | #Wattys2017

Memoirs of a Suicidal Teen

Memoirs of a Suicidal Teen 

I recommend listening to DNA by Lia Marie Johnson and Breathe Me by Sia.

Jodie ran into her room as fast as her malnourished body could take her, slamming the door closed as her tears flowed down her face. It was painful seeing as the tears fell into the wounds tainting her porcelain cheeks. With Jodie, it was a new batch of scars every day. People at school were ruthless. They were like animals, waiting to pounce on their prey. In reality, different animals had different prey but in Jodie's hell, she was the fresh meat that they destroyed mercilessly every single day. Jodie had grown tired of fighting back so, instead, she let them destroy her every day. She let them scar her. She let them burn her. She let them cut her. She let them break her.

Some would say that she gave up too early, too quickly. 

That she lost hope too quickly. 

But whatever hope she had ever accumulated had been cruelly snatched from her many, many years ago. Before, she always walked through the large glass doors that towered over her four foot eleven frame with hope that the vultures after her would refrain from harming her for that one day. 

But they always seemed to find her. 

It was as if, momentarily, they had become the animals they acted like and used all the time they were granted with to hunt her down. As if they glued their noses to the ground like bloodhounds to find her. As if they had ran from location to location with such intense speed they had put a cheetah to shame. Either way, as she walked out of her period four class, they would always be there.

Waiting for her.

Each day, she would dread to venture passed the door. The only thing that separated her from uncertain safety and certain pain. Each time, she would stay inside that class for as long as possible hoping that she would be able to stay there until her lunch hour ended. Then they would be forced to leave her alone. 

Jodie had tried that once. 

She camped inside the classroom with her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Capri-Sun. She had stayed there for the entire lunch hour and only walked out when other children started filing into the room. She genuinely thought she was saved. Then came the end of the day. Jodie walked out of the school building, an overwhelming feeling of relief coursing through her veins. One day of hell had been dodged and she'd found a full proof plan to save her. She thought she was freed from hell and could finally enter heaven.

Then she saw them waiting at her car.

And her heart completely dropped. It dropped further when she saw the iron crowbars, irons and pocket knives in their hands. 

The beating she received that day had to be the worst one she'd ever received to this day.

From then, she had decided it was best to face the music. Even if the music was so horrible, so much so that it filled her with such intense dread, that it brought tears to her eyes.

Teachers knew about this. In her sophomore year, she came home in the arms of a stranger completely knocked out cold. Her clothes were torn, her baby hairs stuck to her head in a mixture of sweat and blood, her white jeans so drenched in her blood that no washing machine would remove the stain and her ankle sticking out in a way that evoked screams from whoever saw it. The stranger had told her mother that Jodie was found on the side of a highway that was hundreds of miles away from her house. 

Jodie's mother looked at her, tears gushing down her face as blood gushed from Jodie's leg. The emotions that coursed through Jodie's mother were indescribable.