A Rose, A Torn and the Dirt

This is a short story which takes a glimpse into the mind of a young girl who suffers from bullying at school and the effects that this has on her.


2. Thorn


My school is not that large; but it's large enough to be a battle field. Where the weak fight with fists while the strong carry weapons. The innocent are just as likely to be slaughtered and the spectators feed the frenzied mass on.


Here I stand, on the fringes of the crowd, in my attempt at fitting in. The bodies move as one. They breathe in the chaos and exhale in laughter. True laughter at other's misery. Doubtful laughter at what they see. Sickened laughter and scared laughter, like my own. Laughter that I hope will hide the fact that it was me that they were supposed to be laughing at.

It only takes one wrong move to not belong. One moment of lost concentration. One little mistake. I let my mind wander. A dangerous move.


They noticed.


The sea parted and though the hole walked the powerful and the mighty. I tried to hide but the walls bounced me back to the centre. I was the prey; I was the deer in the headlights. Cornered and frightened, I pleaded for help. Looked into the eyes of people around me and begged for mercy. I was met with hard glares and amused smiles. Those whom I called friends lowered their heads and took large step back. I understood that. Survival. Everyone just wanted to survive.


The leader laughed. She was tall and slender. Beautiful on the outside with not a blemish or flaw to be seen. Her eyes told a different story. They were a light blue, nearly grey, and hard as rock. They were cold and the only emotion that showed in them was disgust. They pierced me and cut me till I bled.


Her words were blows to my body, each syllable sent me reeling backwards. Beside her, two accomplices pushed my limp frame about the space. She taunted me. Showed me all of my flaws and how much they distorted what could have been beauty. She told me my existence was not needed and I wasted the life given to me by cowering. Only the strong will survive, only the beautiful will live on. An I was neither.


She was right.


And I let myself be punished for my failure.


Tears trickled down my cheeks as the pain assaulted all of my senses. I drank the words in all their truth and waited for the pain to end.



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