My Life is a Silent Hurricane

Chapter 30- I Lost the Battle...

A day later- 7 days till school starts- Maggie and I walk into Walmart, Maggie pushing a cart. Time to shop for school supplies. I pick out black and silver sparkly folders and binders, notebooks with song lyrics on them, pencils, erasers, standard black pens, and all the other necessary stuff like scissors, a calculator (polka dot!) and a pencil case. Then she lets me pick extra things, like glitter pens, fluffy pens, key chains (my favorite is a skull) and mini hand sanitizers.

This year, I decide on a turquoise and white stripe backpack, with a red anchor and the words "I refuse to sink" in loopy red writing next to it.

We head to the checkout counter and load our items onto the conveyor belt. I'm starting to feel okay about myself, so I grab a Diet Coke and some Skittles and toss those on, too. I think I see Maggie smile out of the corner of my eye.

**************

Beep! Beep! Beep! Ugghh that's so annoying. My alarm! I haven't heard that thing in ages. I shut it off and pull myself out of bed. I straighten the covers, then head for the shower. The warm water feels good, my hair feels silky, and when I hop out my towel feels extra soft. I smile. Then i dress in pale blue skinny jeans, a tight black lace-edged tank top and spiky black combat boots. I dress it up with a thick spiky bracelet, thick mascara and eyeliner that makes my eyes stand out, shimmery eyeshadow, and hot pink lipstick. I straighten my hair and bangs, and adjust a black beanie on my head, then look in the mirror. I actually look pretty good!

I pick up my phone and open my text messages.

Storm: "First day of school 4 me!! Wish me luck!! 😘"

He replies right away.

Wesley: you don't need it!! You're beautiful just b urself u will do awesome!! 😘"

Storm: "Awh thx 😍 it's highschool tho and I'm new kid... Gtg I'll tell u bout it later!! 😘"

Wesley: ok love you!! Stay strong!! 😘"

20 minutes later, the school is in view.

I walk up the steps, take a breath, and push open the door. I check in at the front desk, get my schedule from the secretary, then allow myself to be sucked into the crowd.

I open the door to my classroom and walk in with a small cluster of other kids, trying to blend in. I make it to a seat in the middle and size up the classroom. Roughly 25-30 kids. I automatically identify the new kids, most in the back casting nervous glances around the room. I will not be like that, I tell myself, trying to look confident, cool, and comfortable.

3 weeks later....

School has been okay so far. Nobody seems to know I cut, which is good. I haven't really made friends, but no enemies either. Except for two girls who are very basic friends with me. You know, the type you say hi to when you see them or will share a pencil if yours breaks. And there's that one girl who sits on the other side of the room shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

I'm in 7th period right now, biology, aka The Class That is So Supremely Boring That I can't Help But Drift Off Like This All The Time. It doesn't help that it's an end-of-the-day class. I sigh and look out the window, flicking a strand of hair over my shoulder.

Mr Henderson, aka King Boring drones on in the background. It's a rainy day, dark and cloudy. Even the sky cries sometimes. I watch the droplets of water stream down the window.

Finally, school is done for the day. It's a Friday. I gather all my books, then realize I have to hurry to catch the bus. Almost everybody has cleared out of the halls. I stuff a few last books into my backpack, then sling it over my shoulder and hurry down the long hall.

Until, that is, I'm shoved in a janitors closet. I fall onto the floor of it, banging my head on a metal bucket.

"Ow!" I yelp, scrambling to my feet.

The person who shoved me in the closet- now identified as the girl (Emma?) who's always glaring at me- laughs meanly.

"You freakish little bitch. You think you're so cool, dying your hair blue, dressing like that" she gestures toward me, "walkin through the halls like you own the school, acting like you're too good to need any friends- well guess what?! News flash- you're just a suicidal bitch." She spits the phrase at me. I shrink into the corner. And I thought nobody knew I cut! Apparently she sees this, because she laughs meanly and says "Ha! Yeah, you thought nobody knew! Well guess what? Practically the entire school knows!! So go kill yourself. You DIE, you little wanna-be cool girl. Go kill yourself. Nobody loves you. You're just an ugly, suicidal piece of junk." She snarls. And with that, she shoves me again- hard- and laughs as I fall. She kicks me, then turns around and exits the closet, slamming the door behind her. I start to cry. My stomach and legs hurt where she kicked me, and I realize she was stating the truth- nobody loves me. I'm just junk- another mouth to feed, another ugly face to look at. Wesley couldn't dump me when I moved 'cause he saw that I actually thought he cared. He's probably kissing another girl right now- a perfect one, one that's not messed up. I stumble out of the closet, vision blurry from tears, dragging my backpack behind me. There is no Wesley to save me this time.

When I get home, nobody's there. John is, as usual, at work, and Maggie left a note taped to the fridge saying she went grocery shopping.

I decide that Emma was right- I need to kill myself. And I have to make it work this time. I can't let suicide fail again. I text Wesley:

Storm: "bye Wes. Thanks for everything. Now you can move on to your dream girl- without the guilt of me on your shoulders."

I start to cry again as I grab my sharpest razor and a container of pills.

There aren't many good places to hide in the center of San Diego, but eventually I find an old, boarded up, fire singed house, and I slip in through a window with broken glass around the edges that hasn't been boarded up yet. I stumble through the house, finally finding an old, creaky staircase that leads to several rooms. I enter one, peeling paint and creaky floorboards, but surprisingly clean and it doesn't seem to be effected by the fire that once swept through most of the house.

I curl up in a corner. I pull the blade out of my pocket. But it clangs to the floor and I nearly jump out out my skin as an angry buzzing comes from the floor next to me. I calm down when I see it's just my phone, and I pick it up. It's Wesley, calling me. Fighting more tears, i answer it.

"Wes?"

"Please don't do it I need you to stay Storm, YOU are my dream girl- nobody could ever replace you. Please Storm. Don't do it. Keep fighting, beautiful. Stay strong."

"I can't. I keep fighting, but I lost. I'm sorry. Not every soldier survives the fight. My time has come- find yourself a stronger girl, a girl who can say 'I made it' instead of a girl whose last words were 'I lost the battle.'" I'm crying now.

"But you can- put down that razor, that knife. Please. I can't live without you." His voice cracks, and I can tell he's starting to cry, too. I put him on speaker and set the phone next to me, again picking up the blade.

"I'm sorry." My voice cracks. "I can't. I lost. Goodbye." I shove a handful of pills in my mouth and swallow. I start to cut, and his words coming from my phone blur together. The world swims in front of me.

"Bye..." I whisper again, cutting myself 'till the blade drops from my hand and the world goes black. It feels good to die.