Bullied: Isabella's Story

Chapter Five: Lie

I solemnly lumbered home, staring at the pavement below me, noticing all the cracks, marks and breaks in it, from where people had mindlessly walked all over it. I felt a burning sensation on my right cheek. Rubbing at it in attempts to make it more bearable, a sharp, stabbing pain rippled through my face.

My house was nearing - about a thirty second journey from where I was positioned - and so I had to conceal it, in some shape or form, so that my parents wouldn't question me about it. I lifted my hoodie up, and over my cheek. I appeared to be some sort of unorthodox thug, though I didn't care. As long as I got past the stairs and up to my room, nothing should've been an issue...

***
"Isabella Lauren Priscilla Williams! For the last time, where did you get that bruise from?"

Mom had noticed.

It was difficult not to have - realistically.

Charlene had gotten increasingly obnoxious over the past month in school. She and her malignant sidekicks - which I'd soon learnt were named Becky, Laura, Frankie, Ava, Allyson and Holly - had delivered countless notes to me through various students attending my classes, each more and more abusive. Notably, the last one, encouraging me to 'die slowly and painfully'. I never told anyone, as they had requested, for fear of a worsened situation.

Every word I read made me weaken a little inside. Made me feel worthless. Made me remember that I'd never BE anybody. I'd be invisible to the world, no matter what I endeavoured to be seen - I'd be nothing. Nothing. Maybe dying wasn't such a bad option.

Charlene, on the other hand, believed that this wasn't torture enough. Today, after the bell rang to symbolise the school day's end, she'd effortlessly - relentlessly - slammed me into the nearby lockers, threw me to the ground, and... The rest is unnecessary.

I stood trembling, breathing unevenly, before my Mom. I was a terrible liar; my 'well-thought-out explanations' were unconvincing.

"I-I-I..." I stuttered.

She raised an eyebrow at me, anticipating something realistic to come from my mouth.

"I hit my cheek off of the door, no biggie," so far, so good, "I'm fine! You need to stop worrying yourself so much!"

Now, she raised both. Forehead wrinkles made the majority of her complexion, as she contemplated my reason. She, as it seemed, was fooled.

"God! You're so clumsy sometimes, Izzy," she chuckled to herself.

I nodded, holding the vibrant purple half of my face, before sluggishly stumbling upstairs.

***

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
My phone seemed to be having a fit.

Scrolling through my many notifications, my eyes darted towards one in particular. A message from an 'Unknown' contact.

"Why not?" I thought aloud, as I tapped unknowingly on it.

Little did I know...