F

The faint scent of rotting strawberries wafts out as I open the refrigerator door, a dull glow emanating from the dirty bulb. There's nothing...as usual. I sigh and return to my seat on the couch, staring blankly. As usual. 

"You're so lazy," mom scolds, walking past me with a glare. As usual. Dad's not even aware I'm in the same room as him. As usual. Everything is "as usual" here, but the emotions inside me were overwhelmingly stronger than they were yesterday. I close my eyes, remembering.

"Worthless! That's what you are!" Amanda calls after me, laughing with her friends. I shrug it off and walk hurriedly to the restrooms. By the time I'm in a stall, I'm in tears. Breathing shakily, I pull the small pencil sharpener's blade away from its plastic protector and take a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I let the tiny razor take over. Satisfying, warm beads of blood drip-drip-drip from my now open wound.

"Dani?" Mom scowls. My eyes fly open to the present. "What did I just tell you?"

I shrug, looking down at the ground. With a frustrated sigh, she walks away. Worthless! Her ugly words haunt my dreams as I try to sleep that night.

"You're going to be late for school again!" Mom shouts, angrily pounding on my door. I wish I could tell her I'm always late on purpose. I want to tell her that I'm terrified of my classmates I had grown up with. I want to, but I don't say a word as I slip past her. 

"Bye, dad," I mumble as he passes me on my way out.

"Dani," he says over his shoulder. I pause and look up at him as he ruffles my hair. To my surprise, he smiles warmly. "I love you, kid."

"Go to school already!" Mom yells in a strained voice. Just like that, his eyes cloud over, and the moment is over.

I tap my pencil against the last page of my English notebook, contemplating the words I had just written:

I work so hard just to get up in the morning.

My mom thinks it's because I'm lazy.

What she doesn't understand is that it drives me crazy!

How I wish it were just that!

But no, depression hits me with full force,

And of course,

Everybody Everyone seems to disappear when I'm like this.

I can't control it, 

Nor can I dismiss the fact that it won't it'll never go away.

So what's wrong with me?

I ask you this with in dismay.

How can I control something I know nothing about?

I bear this alone,

Every word full of dou-

"What the hell is that?" a voice bursts out laughing. I turn just as another boy, Jonathan, snatches the notebook right from my desk.

"'I work so hard just to get up in the morning.' Damn, Daniel. You're such a frickin' loser!" they both burst into hideous hyena laughter.

"It's Danielle," I growl, snatching my beloved poem back. 

"Whatever. You look like a dude anyway!" he snickered, high-fiving Greg. I stand abruptly, shaking with fury.

"Danielle, please stay in your seat," Mr. Wilson sighs, giving me a helpless look. As if he were saying What can I do? There's a lot you can do, Mr. Wilson. You can be an adult and actually help me. "Danielle. Sit. Now."

"Roll over!" Greg shouts, Jonathan erupting into those horrendous hyena giggles. I want to slit his throat and drown those giggles in his own blood. Wait, what? Where had that come from? 

"Danielle?" Mr Wilson sounded concerned. He should be. I scooped up my backpack and raced out of the classroom to the safety of the bathroom. I sit in the last stall with my knees pulled up against my chest for the rest of the day, staring at nothing. As usual.

Relief washes over me as I walk through the front door; the day is almost over. That's when I hear the muffled sound of someone's anguished sobs. I, of all people, know that sound. Slowly making my way to the kitchen, I peek in to find my mother hunched over a glass cup of amber liquid, crying. Not as usual.

"Mom?" I whisper, almost inaudibly, as I look around for Dad. He should've been home by now. He isn't. Mom is crying. Where is Dad? I rush to his study. Not there. Where is Dad? I throw my backpack down and run to their room, dread knotting my stomach. His stuff is missing. Where is Dad? 

Dad is gone.

Reviews

[DeNine]

Love it! I love the POV and tense. Your descriptions are amazing. I feel the emotions so vividly. You are an amazing writer!

[Nico Marie]

Thanks ^.^ I try to improve my writing every time I read it.