A Romantic's Guide To Tears And Chocolate

I Need A Hero

"Loser!"

I pulled the sleeves of my sweater down, crossed my arms and continued down the hallway. I kept my head down, praying it would somehow block out the harsh words coming from around me.

"Fatty," someone sneered. I glanced up, seeing Clair Moore standing two feet away from me. She was leaned up against the lockers with two of her cronies by her side.

"Leave me alone, Clair," I murmured weakly. Clair was my main tormenter, also known as the most popular girl in school. I tried my best to ignore her, but it was hard to sometimes. Clair stepped closer to me, grabbing the front of my shirt.

"What was that, Margaret?" Clair questioned, snickering at my name.

"N-nothing," I stuttered, closing my eyes in case she decided to punch me again. Luckily, she didn't. I felt her grip on me loosen, causing me to almost sigh in relief. My moment of consolation was short lived, though, because a second later I was being thrown against the lockers. I bit my lip, trying to keep out my cries of distress. Clair just chuckled, flipping her hair and bouncing down the hall with her friends.

I sat on the floor, silently begging for someone to help me. Everybody just kept walking down the halls, occasionally regarding me with sympathetic or cruel glances. I pulled myself up, crossed my arms again and continued down the hall to my second period class. I made sure to pull my sleeves down, covering my scars.

Nobody helped me; nobody ever did.

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After fifteen minutes of walking, I finally made it home. I put my key in the lock and opened the door. Depositing my keys in the bowl, I kicked off my shoes and quickly moved towards the stairs.

"Maggie!"

Dang it, I cursed silently. I kept my head down as I turned to face my mother. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Maggie, look at me," Mom demanded, a hint of worry in her voice.

I didn't want Mom to worry about me. She already had enough on her plate; working two jobs just to support us. My mother kept her determination, though, as she visibly shifted closer to me.

At only 5'3", my mother was a fairly short person. It was crazy how intimidating she could be with such a short stature, considering I had two or three inches over her. Her dark brown waves and piercing green eyes only added to the effect.

I wish I got her features; maybe people would actually like me.

"Maggie," Mom whispered softly, bringing my attention back to her. She touched a finger to my chin and lifted my head up. I tried to turn away, but I was too late.

Mom gasped, covering her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. When I was eating lunch in the library today, a couple of Clair's friends attacked me. I'm pretty sure I was sporting a nice shiner around my eye, as well as a few cuts and bruises.

"Who did this to you, baby?" Mom asked, her tears already beginning to fall. I shook my head, looking the other way.

"Nobody, Mom, I j-just, uh, fell down the stairs." Mom obviously didn't believe me by the look in her eyes.

"Why didn't anybody help you? Didn't the nurse take care of you?"

"Nobody ever helps me, Mom." I started going up the stairs, trying my best to ignore the sound of my mother's cries. I couldn't stand seeing her like that.

I knew she was just trying to help, but there was nothing to do.

I walked into my bathroom, trying my best to ignore the pills in my cabinet and the razor on the side of the sink.