Her Name Was Mallory

Scar

I awoke to the awful sound of my alarm clock. Today would be my last day of school because according to mom, the sooner we left the better. I dragged my feet over to my closet and skimmed through my tops and jeans. I chose the darkest pair of jeans I had along with my black hoodie. After my daily morning routine, I proceeded to begin my walk to school.

The weather was very pleasant today. Seattle was covered with grey clouds and the cold wind was brushing against my pale skin. The only sound I could focus on was the trees swaying back and forth as if they were greeting me while I walked by. Suddenly, another noise came to my attention. This noise came from my stomach.

I was hungry.

I pulled out a pack of gum from my backpack and popped a piece of gum in my mouth. This was a trick I had learned from websites about diets. The chewing of the gum would trick my brain into thinking I was eating food and I would only be consuming about five calories so it was a win-win situation.

By the time I got to school, Romina was already organizing her books in her locker. I tapped on her shoulder and without hesitation she straddled me into a hug.

"It's your last day" she said, and her face was full of sadness.

"Yes, and you have no idea how happy I am," I responded, "though I will miss you"

"Why Denver though?" she asked, and so far these past few weeks I had not questioned it. I just knew that wherever it was, I would be better and more importantly, safe.

"Not sure, perhaps because we have relatives there" I opened my locker and dropped my math book in there. Today I would only have to worry about English, PE and Art.

"Yeah, that's probably it" Romina linked arms with me and we were on our way to class.

My first class was English, and just like every morning Romina was able to drop me off. English was my hardest class, not academic wise but because the people there all hated me. Most of the people there were either friends with Elijah or simply did not care enough to even say hello to me. So, as I had done every day of the year I took my seat in the very back of the classroom and opened up my journal to begin writing about the quote on the board. While I was diving into my thoughts regarding the inspirational quote, I heard Mrs Cox call me over to her desk.

"Mallory take a seat" she said as she tapped a chair next to her desk. "I have been analyzing the paper you wrote about your biggest challenge and I came to realize that you are being bullied, is that correct?" she asked and her glossy eyes seemed a little dull this morning. My bullying story was not something I talked to just anyone about and if there was a reason why I deciced to write about it was because writing was my only way to escape. I poured out my heart and soul into my writings and the heavy weight seemed a little less heavy and definitely a little more bearable. I knew that the paper would soak up the ink that formed my misfortunate words, while speaking to someone about my issues would only mean that my words would just be ignored. I was already miserable enough, being ignored would only make matters worse. However I had no idea what went through my head the moment I turned in that essay with all my issues weaved into it. I now had to come up with a good explanation. I cleared up my throat before speaking and unfortunately the only thing that came out of my mouth was nothing but the truth.

"Um, yes" I coughed a little into my sleeve and as I looked down at it I realized I had coughed up a tiny amount of blood. Trying to not be freaked out by the droplets of blood drying into my sleeve I continued on the talk with the teacher.

"I have been bullied since I got to town. I was ten when everything began" I said and avoided eye contact with her.

"Why didn't you ever speak up about it?" she asked and I could not help but to let out a small laugh and a sarcastic smirk came on my face.

"And what would have you done for me? Huh? You would have said the same thing everyone else has. 'Get over it', that's what everyone has been telling me. For heaven's sake even the counselor told me to get over it, to forget about it. As if words were to hurt me any less than a physical wound would" I said, or yell I should say. By now I had raised my voice causing the stare of several classmates.

"I'm truly sorry Mallory, but please calm down. I am at no fault, I have done nothing to you. Maybe if you would've speaked up about I could have helped..." her voice trembled. I had never spoken to her in that way, I even scared myself. But it was to be understood that for years no one had even dared to ask about how I was doing. For her to worry now, a day before I leave to the middle of the country just seemed hypocritical.

"I think that's the problem Mrs. Cox, that you did not do anything" I said and got up from my seat, "no one does anything and people like me, we are to deal with these chains of cruelty on our own. We have to learn to harden our hearts so no one else can ever hurt us again. It is a pity that there are many people like myself, that could have done something for this world but instead will remain locked up in their rooms, wondering why the hell we are not good enough. Asking ourselves which method of suicide would be the most effective, and composing goodbye letters to our parents, letters which might not even see the light of the day, because we realize that once our death has taken place, no words can fix it"

"You're very special Mallory, despite what those who bully you say you are special. The way you express yourself is unbelieveable" she responded and I had no need to hear any more nonsense. I turned around ready to walk away when she grabbed my wrist and asked the question no one else had asked.

"Who was it that bullied you?" she asked.

"Does it matter? I leave tomorrow and this will all go down the drain" I responded and gave her the coldest look I could produce.

"Tell me, or I will have to report your situation to the principle and I know you would much rather keep this a secret since like you said, you leave soon"

"Elijah Morrison" I responded and her face went pale. She turned to look the whiteboard to see the picture of the student of the month who happened to be Elijah. Mrs.Cox whispered a sorry, and tore down the picture as I made my way back to my desk where I would leave my ghost forever.

3:00pm

School was finally out and I had decided to take this walk as some alone time. I wanted to capture every single step of the way back home, I knew someday these memories could come in handy. The rain had began to pour as I walked through the same old dragon park I used to love. I decided to stand in the middle of the park where I was surrounded by trees and let the rain wash away all the pain I had gone through today. I would let this moment be symbolic, maybe it would help me cope with my situation.

I began to hear footsteps behind me and it was the same vicious snake named Elijah.

"What're you doing here?" I asked.

"It's a park, I can be here if I want to you know that right?" he said, sarcastically.

"Stay away from me" I yelled but he came closer to me.

"You know, I did not appreciate you snitching on me today. Thanks to you, Mrs. Cox removed me from the honors program"

"As she should have, you did not deserve to be an honors student" I responded, and I had no idea where this sense of bravery came from.

"I wanted to get you a gift, I know it's your last day here" his voice sounded like some evil music that created suspense.

"I don't want anything from you" my voice trembled, I could no longer stay calm.

"Oh I didn't ask you" he pulled out a pocket knife, grabbed my wrist within seconds and created a slit across it.

"I hope you remember me, miserable miserable Mallory" and he walked away, leaving me to bleed intensely. The sting of the cut he had created hurt almost as much as all the insults he had told me since the fourth grade. I began to feel dizzy and a sudden white light invaded my vision and...

I awoke.

This dream had been haunting me for the past couple days. I found myself in the car now, on my way to Denver. I rolled up my sleeve and ran my fingers across the healing cut. It would certainly leave a scar.

Elijah's print would be on my skin permanently.