So today, during lunch, Johnny threw his food at my face. Everybody laughed. I heard a voice in the back of my head telling me that I was fine and there was nothing to worry about, but they were laughing. How could it all be fine? I was covered in pasta and tomato sauce and I still had two more classes. Two more hours of complete and utter hell. There is no other way to explain what the next two hours were like except for the firey pits of hell itself. NO!! Hell would have been better than what I went through. I was pushed around, mocked, laughed at, spit on, I was even kicked and swore at a few times. They hated me. All of them.
Between classes I went to the drinking fount for some water. Then out of nowhere Johnny showed up. He hit the books out of my hand as hard and dramatically as he possibly could. Then he raised his arm up as high as he could and slapped me right across the face. I fell to the ground unable to move. I was petrified, not by pain but fear.
How could this be my life? Had I done something to offend God?
I didn't tell Sophie. I wanted to stay strong for her so I kept the hurt to myself. My dad didn't even notice the bruise on my face when he got home. He just told me goodnight and went to bed.
Am I dying? Is this what it's like for your very soul to die inside you living body? Cause it hurts. It hurts so bad that I don't understand how I can live another day. How can I go through this pain everyday. Both day in and day out. I'm dying, can't anybody see it?
YOU ARE READING
A Journal of a Young Girl
ContoA short story wrote in the perspective of a girl, Meri, writing in her journal over the course of her freshman year of high school. She faces some trials and doesn't quite know the best way out. Warning some parts made writer cry, so please be prepa...
