A Thousand Little Pieces

AN: I wrote this story for an English exam in Year Eight. I want to get the message across to make bullies out there reading this stop. This story is based on true events, but the details and names have been changed. I received a level 7c/b for it, so I am immensely proud of this!

A Thousand Little Pieces

Tears stung my eyes like a million pricks from a needle. The wind screamed like a pack of banshees. Below me, the salty sea hissed frothy, foamy spit as it slapped the jagged rocks vehemently. Cold bit at my body until I was a stalagmite. Except this wasn't a cave. This was Beachy Head. This was the place I was going to die.

Picture a thirteen year old girl with hair the colour of corn and blue eyes as round as buttons with vivacity. She lived an idyllic life- family, friends and fun all wrapped up in a box with a big sparkly bow. Imagine that box being smashed into a thousand little pieces with one sudden, sharp, swift movement. That's the best metaphor I can think of for my life. My name is Annie and this is my story.

My other crazy best friends, Lucy, Emma and I had been invited to Harriet's sleepover. I never should've gone although I would've found out the truth eventually.

Voices float into my ears. The bed groans as Harriet jumps up and down, a mad witch full of glee, talking like someone from Essex.

"I'm so hyper like I eat sugar all the time! That's what makes me such a wobbly jelly. Have you seen me go wibble-wobble and check my hair like every ten seconds because I'm just so-o-o-o vain? Oh, did I forget to mention I'm obsessed with History because I'm a GEEK?"

No. No. No. This can't be happening. She's talking about me.

The three of them, my three best friends, burst into fits of malicious cackles that are as piercing as the poisonous arrows wedging in and shattering my heart into a thousand little pieces. Nausea swirls in my stomach. Beads of sweat bubble on my forehead. My throat is a lake deprived of its water in a drought. Startled gasps reach my burning ears as I stumble out of the camp bed; I'm hyperventilating so hard that the room is spinning. My sticky fingers slide across the en suite door's gold handle. The world inside is like the colour of someone's teeth after whitening. Pressing my hands to my eyes, I sink to the tiled floor and pour my heart out, ignoring the cries of 'Annie!' from the people I'd thought were my best friends.

They didn't understand. I had tried so hard since starting secondary school to fit in, to heal those painful primary school memories and now all my hard work was in a thousand little pieces. There, I had been a toy with 'TEASE AND TORMENT ME' written across my forehead. My forehead now was copiously covered in spots. Everyone said they were small and they would go away soon but they were like volcanoes to me. Harriet was right, I did check on my hair loads because it was such a static candyfloss.

I couldn't believe it was actually true. My best friends really thought that about me. They even thought I was a hippopotamus! It was awful leaving Harriet's, with Lucy and Emma both biting their lips. If they were my real friends, they would've defended me when they thought I was sleeping and wouldn't have laughed along with Harriet.

Walking as slowly as a snail, I trudged up the garden path and inserted my rusty key in the hole. I can still remember my Mum's screams echoing along the hallway.

Horror paralyses my body momentarily. I thunder towards the living room. I gasp. My eyes widen. Mum is cowering on the wooden floor, Dad's hand frozen in the air as they both stare at me. Everything goes cold. My stomach flips violently. My rucksack slides from my fingers to the floor. Just like that, the contented family image I have in my head is broken up into a thousand little jigsaw pieces that will never ever fit back together. Vision blurring, I run up to my bedroom and slam the door.