What Lies Within

Who I've Became

   After my parents died and they betrayed me my average has dropped in all my classes. Gradually, I went from 96.89% average to a 67.92% and that wasn’t acceptable for me, but I couldn’t help myself; I was emotionally, mentally and physically unstable.  I honestly didn’t think I would’ve been able to bring up my average before the end of sophomore year, it seemed physically impossible. I became Jordyn Parker, the depressed, suicidal girl who couldn’t bring her grades up because she’s emotionally unstable. And is my fault? Yeah it kind of is.

            After a couple of months, my Geometry teacher (Mr. Brooks) wanted to see me after school, to know why I’m failing his class. So after school, I went into his classroom and he wanted to know why, and I told him. “ Mr. Brooks, you obviously know that both of my parents died. I can’t make that any more obvious to you. And when you’re a fifteen year old child who lost their parents and live in a foster home, then you get back to me on why you’re failing every class.” I told him, while I got up, left his classroom and slammed his door. I’m sick and tired of people pretending to care. That’s what happened during my freshmen year here, everyone pretended to care about me, and I too blind to see it. I liked the fame I got; it made me feel good for a modified amount of time. All of a sudden Mr. Brooks cared about me, and that was typically hard to believe. But I went to school the next day, only to find out that Mr. Brooks really wanted to talk to me, ( UGH!!  the upsetting this about having a guidance counselor as a teacher, however I thought a guidance counselor was suppose to guide you academically not socially, emotionally, and mentally.)

            So I went after school once again, and he wasn’t there. I waited about ten minutes before leaving, when he came in and locked the door. “ What are you doing?” I asked

“Just so you can’t leave while I’m talking to you.” He smirked.

I started to feel uncomfortable, I hoped that he did want to talk to me, and I hope that the student-teacher relationship we had, wouldn’t escalade into anything more, so I tried to make a run for it, and he beat me to the door.

“ And Jordyn where do you think you’re going?” He said, while caressing my arm.

“ Mr. Brooks, can you stop touching me like that? I feel uncomfortable. You’re a teacher and I’m a student of yours. Also you have a lovely wife, touch her in those ways” I replied ducking under his arm, to get my bag and trying to unlock the door.

He grabbed me by the waist, slowly playing with my belt buckle. My breath became unsteady as I tried to kick him in the balls. I wanted to get away and I couldn’t, and knowing that I couldn’t do anything, brought me to tears. He sat me on his desk, taking off my belt and slipping his right hand into my jeans, putting his hand lower and lower. His green eyes met mine, with his smirking lips. I was scared and I took the chance to move my legs to kick him but that didn’t work. He slowly worked his lips up to mine, trying to kiss me, and I didn’t kiss back. I was in total shock and I was scared..

“ Kiss back” he demanded.

“ No, I don’t want too. This is wrong. Get off me.” I said in between sobs

My cries didn’t matter to him, they motivated him, to do more. His lips then went to my neck, slowly sucking on it, and I didn’t enjoy it. It felt nasty, it made me feel dirty. I felt useless, worthless and nothing but a sex slave. He was my favorite teacher; Geometry was actually a class I enjoyed, and my enjoyment slipped out the window.

            “ Jordyn, god damn your body is a jewel.” ~ He said kissing my neck once again before going back down to my pants.

            He then stripped himself of his clothing, making this situation more uncomfortable. I began to scream, and he laughed uncontrollably still taking off his pants. It slipped my mind that no student was in the school and all the teachers were in a meeting in the basement, and they couldn’t hear me from the fourth floor. Tears started flowing again, I wasn’t even concerned on why he wasn’t there.

            Overall he raped me, my favorite teacher raped me. I felt useless, I felt dirty. I honestly didn’t even want to go “home” tonight. When he finally released me from that hell whole, I ran out of the school as fast as I could, crying uncontrollably. I felt like walking home crying my eyes out, my face probably looks horrible from all the eyeliner and mascara. I wanted to cut school the next day, or even cut his class but I know for a fact I would’ve been in trouble with my foster parents and the room and the amount of food I eat could’ve gotten smaller.

            I was late to school the next day, and it truly sucked that I had Geometry for a double period. I had to see him first thing in the morning and for second period ( second period being the longest period of the day.)

He followed behind me into the school building being late for first period by five minutes, walking up behind me and quietly saying “Nice ass.”

I absolutely never felt so uncomfortable in my life; never felt so used; never felt so dirty, and what sucks is that, I couldn’t tell anyone because my mother died, my father died and the “friends” I did have no longer talk to me. In addition, my foster parents didn’t care. Isn’t this wonderful?  Being raped by your favorite teacher who you have to see on a daily basis? And you know what made this situation worse, regents were coming up so I had to come on Saturdays to prepare for them.

            I didn’t think the pain could become any worse than it already was, he gave me the new flash. I went from being the popular girl to being emotionally distressed. I went home that night and cried while I cut the words “Insecure” into my arm.

            It feels as if my life is already as it’s crumbling stage; I’m standing on last piece and it would be in so little time before that piece breaks.Insecurities, scars, suicide, depression are all apart of who I’ve became and it’s hard to change who you are in such little time.