A Wilting Rose

The Petals Droop

I lay on my bed, staring blankly and dully up at the ceiling, replaying the events of today with a wrenching feeling in my stomach.

It wasn't the loss of my phone that distressed me; I could easily buy a new one, and before I did I could use the house phone. That problem was easily solved. No, it was the pure cruelty that powered Michelle's and Jack's hearts, and all the others...they took much pleasure and amusement from my obvious pain. Did they realise the atrocity of their actions?

Of course they didn't. They saw something that made them laugh, that entertained them, and that something was me. Poor, geeky Rosy Posy. With my less-than-attractive appearance and my weak nature I, of course, was an easy target. I was someone who would not retaliate, would stand meekly, cry, give an entertaining performance, and not prattle to the teacher. That was necessary in a victim.

It wasn't as though I hadn't endured worse however, I thought, as I my eyes continued to bore into the plain, whitewashed ceiling of my room.

Once, in Year Nine, Michelle told the whole year group that I was suffering from diarrhoea. That didn't die away for months, and even now, occasionally, some come up to me and quickly say, 'Diarrhoea Girl!' before dashing away in helpless giggles.

In the February of year ten Jack Hutches threw my school bag forcefully across the school gate, which we were expressly told not to venture across. I was forced to climb across it, but Michelle took haste in alerting a teacher, and I was put in my first ever detention. The worst thing that came out of it was that Mum was extremely disappointed, when she received the phone call, and though I felt humiliated and ashamed, I still could not bring myself to tell her. To see her worried face, her concern and pain, would break my heart.

'Rosie!'

Hearing my mother's voice, that gentle, nurturing sound I cherished, spurred me to sit up.

'Yes?' I called down.

'Make sure you finish your homework, I'm just making tea!'

I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. The prospect of homework was extremely tiring. 'OK!' I shouted back down to her.

I zipped open my bag and placed all my necessary books onto my desk, then I sat down heavily. My essay on the similarities and differences between Banquo and Macbeth was done in an instant, as was my history essay covering the expectations of women in the sixteenth century.

For Geography, however, I had to do a PowerPoint. I walked wearily downstairs; Mum was stirring pasta in the kitchen, and Oscar was lying on the living room floor with his legs kicking in the air, doing a jigsaw puzzle. He was being assisted by Dad.

'Mum,' I asked, causing to her to spin round cheerily.

'Yes, darling?'

'I need to use the laptop,' I expressed to her.

'Of course, lovey, it's just on the side there.'

I nodded in thanks and retrieved it, which I then took upstairs and laid on my desk. I logged onto my account, and was just about to go onto PowerPoint when I noticed I had fifty emails.

This made me scratch my head in puzzlement. I never got emails, unless of course they were from Amazon. I clicked onto them and scrolled. My eyes widened in utter horror.

why don't you just kill yourself? Your not wanted here, plus no one likes you ur just a loner so whts the point of being alive if its jus to mope around reading???????!!!!!!!

Poor Rosy Posy. Have you never wondered why you have precisely...well...no friends?? Lol just die in a hole.

Haiii, spof, and we don't care what it stands for. You're ugly and fat so just die.

Ur a disgrace to the human race!!!ur always rlly horrible to michelle, when she is the bae, so stop it coz no one likes u!!!

Omfg Langford, ive just been told that you have like a ten yr old phone and thts jus stupid so im glad Michelle chucked it i mean u are like sooooooo low!!

Reading is boring and so are you!!!! Plz get out of everyone's life!!! You just wreck everything by being there. I wish I go back in time and kill your mum to stop her from having you bitch

Though the grammar and spelling was appalling, the message on each one was clearer than crystal. My first thought was, how did they get my email?, but I skated over that one for the time-being. The most important thing was: I was being cyber-bullied.

As well as the name-calling, the insults, the humiliation and the rumours, I was also being anonymously emailed with messages that could not be clearer that they wanted me to die.

Die.

The word echoed round my brain, getting louder and louder until -

I clamped my hands over my ears, and began to sob. I could barely breathe; I seemed to be suffocating in sorrow. Rocking back and forth, back and forth, my lungs seemed to hitch every time I gasped for oxygen. I was drowning in complete depression, all the bullying, all the insults, everything, it ended like this.

Death.

Would it extend to that? I had never thought about that before...would I eventually be driven to actually committing suicide? Could I take it? I had coped -just- for five whole, dragging years, could I cope for the last one? It had worsened since Year Eleven had began, I knew that much. Michelle especially. She seemed to be even more self-confident as the top of the school, and this had inevitably led to even more heartless bullying.

But I hadn't been cutting. Did that mean I wasn't being bullied? Did that mean I was simply making a fuss? I knew that people that were seriously bullied cut themselves, and I had never understood why.

But as I sat there, my eyes draining of their steady stream of burning hot tears, my body wracked with sobs, I understood utterly and completely. If I currently had a knife to hand, I would slash all my skin, I would run the blade through my arm like it was a loaf of bread.

I would even pierce my heart.

But that would involve going downstairs to retrieve the knife, and I would have to face Mum, with my puffy, scarlet eyes, runny nose and all. I took one, final hateful glance at the computer screen through my tears, and switched the laptop off, so the emails disappeared into a fathomless screen of black.

Then I crawled onto the floor weakly and hugged my knees to my chest, my head tilted downwards, my eyes tightly shut. My hand reached out onto the carpet next to me, to steady myself, and they came into contact with something soft. I opened my eyes slowly, and saw through my sticky lashes a honey-coloured, tatty teddy bear, with one of its eyes missing.

My childhood teddy bear was clutched in my shaking hands.

I let out a strangled weep, and hugged it tightly, my tears dampening it's soft fur. It's over-powering scent transported me to my childhood, when my laughter was genuine, my smiles always evident.

It transported me back to happiness.

Sorry this is a bit short :/ I had a touch of writers block. The remaining chapters will be longer!