Freshman

Eileen was going to piss herself

Mel's POV

Okay, October has arrived and school's been pretty good so far

Dani's sisters came over to play with Dee Dee, I ran over to Eileen's house for a sleepover.

We literally sat in her basement, huddled under a Winnie the Poo comforter watching the devil inside.

Worst idea ever, Eileen was ready to piss herself. But I was fine, horror movies don't freak me out.

I just can't be scared by that, it's those shows with ghosts that do.

I swear I saw a girl in my basement late one night. I sh*t you not. When I looked again, she was gone.

I'm not crazy.

_______

Josie doesn't even give me the time of day anymore, neither does Emily. But Ryan and Mark apologized so we're okay.

Which is good, because I don't know what I'd do without my friends.

I'm so bored, there's nothing to do here. Dee Dee went to her friends house, and my parents are out. Jason's out with the guys, and Eileen's away for the weekend.

What to do?

Well there's always Facebook.

I practically rolled off the couch, and stuck out my hand reaching to my laptop.

So close. Damn I'm lazy.

I grab it carefully, and sit up. Then I place it on my lap.

I click on the browser, and wait for it to load. This is taking forever.

Finally I log in, and the sight in front of me is, troubling to the mind.

Josie's made a page about me.

"Melissa James,Corr Public School's resident loser"

I can't think, or breathe or even move. All I can do is keep scrolling.

There's pictures of me, and Jason and Eileen together at the school. But all with an "L" on our foreheads.

There's my school picture, and she's written words all over my face.

"Fat"

"Slut"

"Whore"

"Loser"

"Anti-social"

And so many others like this.

Is this what people really think about me?

I look down at my body, I'm not fat. Am I?

I hold the skin on my stomach, I never thought I was fat. Just average, and I was okay with that. Up until now anyway.

I walk over to the bathroom, lock the door behind me and lift my shirt up in the mirror.

Am I fat? Now that I think about it, I could do to lose a few pounds.

I pull my shirt down and return to the laptop. I want to cry, and just let it all out. I want to cry, and think everything's going to be better.

But it's not, I have this deep feeling inside that she's going to keep abusing me.

Why does she hate me? What did I ever do to her? What can I do?

Should I report the abuse? No, That'll only make it worse. Should I tell my Dad? He's a cop, but what if everyone else gangs up on me for getting Josie in trouble? They worship her.

I'm going to tough it out, but I don't know what can make this pain in my chest go away.

I slink down the wall, and put my face in my hands. That's when I let the tears escape from the hold I've kept them in.

They flow into my hands and I sob.

Everyone hates me.

Don't go to drastic measures, don't do anything stupid.

Be strong.

But I can't.

I lift my head up, and look around the bathroom.

I need to take a shower, that's what I need to do. Just forget.

I get up, wipe my eyes again and strip off my clothes, then turn the shower on.

The sound of running water over powers the pounding that's started in my ears, and I step into it. Allowing the warm water to run over my body.

I find that I have more tears flowing, and they feel like the water running down my cheeks.

Maybe I'll cry in the shower more often, it hides my tears.

I can't even stand right now. So I take a seat on the shower floor.

I hate myself.

I hate myself.

I hate myself.

I can't make the pain go away, I can't.

I can cry and cry and cry but it's not going away.

I feel like my chest has been tied in knots, like my heart is going to fall out of my chest. And like I'm going to puke all the same time.

I can't go back to school, there's no way.

She'll see me, everyone will laugh at me.

I'm a loser, just like she said.

Why does Jason even love me?

I can't make this go away.

I lift my head from my hands again, and look at the tile wall in front of me.

Life is so worthless, one minute you're happy, the next you're crying on a shower floor.

My eyes pan around the room, and I focus on my razor in the corner.

I've heard that cutting makes the pain go away, but I've also heard that it's highly addictive and dangerous.

I'm sure if I cut my thigh I would be okay, and nobody would see it.

No I'm smarter then that, I shouldn't making any stupid decisions.

It's going to take a lot more for Josie to bring me down.