Jamie

Parenting and Bullying

Jamie felt the light touch of her mother's soft hand rest on her back.

"Time to wake up, Jay," her mother whispered.

Jamie tossed in her sheets and attempted to shield her ears with her pillow, but her mother threw the pillow off the bed. "Jamie, c'mon, baby. You'll be late for school."

"Or I don't have to go," Jamie mumbled in a hoarse voice. Her mother stood up from the bed, not knowing how to respond exactly. "Mom, please. Can I please not go?" Jamie pleaded.

"Jay, this is your future. Don't you want a future? Well in order to have one, you're going to have to go to school whether you like it or not." With that, Jamie's mother exited the bedroom. 

Jamie found the strength to pick herself up from her bed, and trudged to her wardrobe to pick out what to wear. She shuffled through the various band t-shirts; My Chemical Romance, Green Day, Pierce the Veil, Red Hot Chili Peppers... until she finally came across a tank top with Billie Joe Armstrong's face on it. His eyes were tightly sealed in the picture, holding his gun-shaped hand to the side of his head. "This is perfect," Jamie said. "Exactly how I feel..." She rolled her eyes and slipped on the tank top as well as some ripped up jeans and black All-Star Converse.

Jamie applied her eyeliner and moped into the kitchen to eat breakfast. She did not want to eat. "What is that shirt?" her mother demanded.

"Billie Joe Armstrong. You've seen this one before," Jamie tried to convince her mother. Her mother flinched at the name of the singer.

"That is inappropriate for school, Jamie. Go change. Wear the nice blouse I got you. Go, now." Seeing band tees always seemed to put Jamie's mother in the worst of moods. Jamie always wondered as to why her mother despised her music taste so much.

"I'm not wearing a fucking blouse," Jamie hissed. Her mother gasped.

"You see! Do you see what these groups are doing to you? Encouraging you to use fowl language! You better expect to eat soap for dinner tonight. Go change! Off you go."

Ignoring her mother's demands, Jamie cooed, "Mom, they are bands; not groups." Jamie's mother slammed a kitchen pot onto the counter, creating a large bang. Jamie grabbed her backpack and headed off to the bus stop without having eaten breakfast, ignoring her mother's wishes.

Jamie could already see the other eighth graders waiting at the bus stop, and most of them were from her homeroom. As she came closer to the group of teenagers, they sneered and hissed insults at her and her outfit. Jamie walked slowly, brushing off the insults. 

"Casey, go get the rocks..." one of the kids whispered, and Casey wandered off into a bush, searching and digging for the rocks she hid. Casey appeared from the bush shortly after, with a large bucket of rocks. The teens raced each other to the bucket, grabbing as many of the rocks they could as if it was candy from a piñata.

Jamie raised one eyebrow in confusion as the kids stood before her with rocks filling their hands. Suddenly, before Jamie could think twice, the teens were hurling rocks at her left and right. Jamie crouched onto the ground with her hands sheilding her head, screaming and calling for help. She could feel the warm sensation of blood flowing smoothly down her arm and back as the rocks smacked against her body even more.

Jamie collapsed onto the ground completely, unable to pick herself up. "The bus!" someone shouted, and with that, the rest of the rocks were thrown back into the bucket to be taken back to the bush for tomorrow.

The bus came to a stop in front of the children, and they all hopped on fastly, hoping the bus driver wouldn't question the bloody girl laying and shivering on the stubby dead grass. Jamie moaned in pain as she moved in slow motion on the grass; for if she moved to fast, the pain would be unbearable.

"Who is that?" Jamie heard coming from the bus. "What happened to her?" "Is that Jamie? Ha!" "Hopefully she'll bleed out her music taste..."

Jamie felt a rough hand clutch her arm. Whoever it was, he was trying to pull Jamie to her feet, but failed at the attempt. "Miss Lee, I can't do it!" complain a whiney voice. It was Darrel, the class "nerd". He had had a liking for Jamie for as long as she could remember.

"Uhhhhh," Jamie groaned. "What the fuck...?" she wheezed out. She felt a firm, tight hand on her arm, and she was quickly pulled to her feet. She felt nausea overcome her whole body and her legs shook back and forth at the effort of trying to hold herself up.

"What's wrong with you, girl?" the bus driver yelled into Jamie's ear. Jamie was too whoozy to answer, but one of the kids on the bus answered for her.

"Her taste in music," he laughed.

"Hey, that's not nice!" Darrel shouted back, attempting to defend his love.

"Fuck you!" the same kid shouted from the window of the bus. Darrel shyly turned away, pushing his glasses farther onto his nose with his middle finger.

Miss Lee hauled Jamie onto the bus, and drove her back to her house. Miss Lee escorted Jamie back to her front door. "Is your mother home?" Jamie forced out a moan, unable to do anything more. Miss Lee used her hard fist to bang on the door.

Within a few seconds, Jamie's mother appeared at the door. "What is this?" she reacted, eyeing Jamie's cuts and bruises.

"A few children on the bus were making fun of her, I do believe. Correct me if I'm wrong, Darrel -- and they beat her up a little bit. She should be fine. I have to get these children to school, now. Take care," Miss Lee slurred, trying to talk as fast as she could so she could return to her job. She tossed Jamie's motionless body over to her mother, and was on her way with Darrel alongside of her.

"Jamie! I told you to not wear such a shirt!" her mother scolded. Why was she scolding Jamie for getting bullied? Jamie felt exhausted, as if she couldn't do anything right. She couldn't find the strength to stand any longer, and collapsed into her mother's arms. Her mother sweared under her breath as she carried her child to her bed.