Posted in Challenge, Short Strory

Eye contact


I once was a perfectly happy and healthy thirteen-year-old girl. It all changed when I walked into our living room one Saturday morning and saw my parents on the couch with a letter.

“Why are you guys acting weird over a piece of paper”? I asked and folded my legs under me on the couch.

“Dad got promoted and he is being offered a position on the other side of the island” my mom said not making eye contact.

It took me a second to process the information.

“Dad is not going to take it right? I mean, you wouldn’t do that to me? A new school? All my friends are here” I said in a panicked voice.

My mom looked at my dad, waiting for him to respond. He looked up at me and I could see that he already made up his mind.

“I’m taking the job honey. This is an opportunity I am not willing to pass on. You’ll make new friends, I promise”.

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And that was that. A month later all of our belongings was loaded into the back of a moving truck and we were on our way to the other side of the island. I was still angry but I knew that at this stage I had no leg to stand on. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, or maybe it would. Little did I know that my life was about to change.

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I started school the following Monday. After first period I briefly made eye contact with a girl who was in no doubt the mean girl of the school. I could see that she was on her way over to me so I ducked into the nearest bathroom, hoping she didn’t see me. I really didn’t want any drama. It took seconds for them to barge through the door. I continued to wash my hands, trying not to look at her. Maybe if I pretended she wasn’t there she would go away. I knew girls like her and I knew perfectly well what they were capable of.

“Excuse me” I said in the softest most polite way possible and tried to get past her to get out the door. She grabbed me by my throat and shoved me against the cold wall behind me. This of course took me by complete surprise.

“You made eye contact, everyone knows that forbidden” she hissed at me.

I was frozen. I couldn’t do or say anything. I wanted to roll my eyes at her. People weren’t allowed to make eye contact with her? Who did this girl think she was, the queen? Her friends laughed.

“Never look at me again you filthy hag” she hissed again and let go of her grip on my throat. She walked out the room and her clan followed.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I didn’t know what to do or what to think. I grabbed my backpack and headed outside to get some fresh air, promising myself that I would stay out of her way as far as possible. If I left her alone I’m sure she would leave me alone. Boy, was I wrong.

The bullying and harassment continued for the weeks to follow. Every opportunity she got to embarrass me or  physically hurt me she used. Her friends joined in on the fun and I could feel myself quickly slip into depression. I never understood why they were doing this to me? Was it because I was the new girl? I didn’t understand. Why me?

I never told my parents. I guess I should have but I just didn’t want to hassle them with this.

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Neon pink and orange flyers were being distributed throughout the school. One landed on my desk in third period. It was a party. The boy behind me tapped me on my shoulder and I turned around.

“You should come” he said, pointing at the flyer.

I smiled and nodded. This was the first party I was invited to since I got here. Well, not like this was an invitation but still. I was excited and went shopping with my mom that afternoon for an outfit.

Music was blaring as I walked up the driveway. I opened the front door and was surprised by all the people there. It was nothing like the parties I was used to that’s for sure. I walked around looking for a spot to sit when I noticed them. I looked away and turned my back. I didn’t want to look at her and cause a scene. Unfortunately she noticed me and came right over. Great.

She grabbed me by my hair and forced me into a room nearby.

“What are you doing here?” She asked through clenched teeth.

“It’s a party half of the school was invited to” I snapped back.

She tightened her grip and shoved my head into the drawer standing next to the bed.

I screamed which made her more angry and more violent. After a few punches to the head I could feel more and more warm liquid dripping from my head and it wasn’t long before I blacked out.

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I once was a perfectly happy and healthy thirteen-year-old girl until I met a girl who disliked me for no reason. I was happy and healthy until I came across a girl who was angry at the world and took it out on me. I was in a coma for seven months. Not only did she bash my head in but she also dumped me in the swimming pool and it took a while for someone to notice that there was a lifeless body floating.

My parents took her to court, her case is pending. I was a happy and healthy thirteen-yearh-old girl until I was put in a coma for seven months. Perhaps we could have moved away? Perhaps I could have gone back to my old school? Perhaps it would have all worked out? I won’t ever have the answer for that. I was in a coma for seven months and then passed away.


Posted in Challenge, Short Strory

Outside My Window


Most people enjoy the sunshine and being outside in the open, fresh air filling their lungs, feeling the warmth of the sun on their skin.I’ve never been one of those people.

It’s difficult to explain. I have always craved to be by myself, for people to just leave me alone and let me be. The thought of going outside, my feet touching the grass, bugs flying over me and the sun burning my pale skin has always been something that triggered panic attacks.

It didn’t help that my parents forced me to play outside, to jump in puddles after a rainstorm, to climb trees, riding my bike and run around with the other kids in the neighborhood. It broke me, psychologically it broke me.

Each time we would have an ‘episode’ as my parents called it, it broke out into a fight. Both my siblings and parents wanted me to play outside and be ‘normal’. All I wanted to do was be in the comfort of our home, watching television or poking around on the internet. I loved reading, I loved writing screenplays and building make-believe stages. I had no desire to be an actor or comedian, I just wanted to be behind the scenes.

No one understood me. I was completely alone.

One night at the dinner table, my parents insisted that I speak to a therapist. They made arrangements for doctor Pelgrim to come to our home. She was beautiful and friendly. She made herself comfortable on the light-brown suede sofa and wrote something in her notebook. I stared at her without saying anything. She stared back, smiled and then wrote something else.

“Do you know what is wrong with me yet”? I asked and studied her face for a moment. She looked up from her notebook frowning. Her lips, covered in red lipstick parted, as if she wanted to say something but closed them again while writing something else in her notebook. Finally she looked up at me, still frowning. “William, why do you think there’s something wrong with you”? She asked.

I stared at her. I sure hope my parents wasn’t paying her whole lot, she was a therapist after all. If my parents and half of the town could see there is something wrong with me, how could she not? I didn’t answer. Instead I stared out the living room window to where my siblings were playing on the tree-swing.

“William, you need to come to the realization that there is nothing ‘wrong’ with you. This is just the way you are wired. You are different, the way you think, the way you act, it’s all different. That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you”. She looked at me with sympathy in her eyes. She was right. I was just different. There wasn’t anything wrong with me. She got up and headed for the door.

“I will see you next week, same time, same place” she called over her shoulder before she sprinted to her car. I sat in silence for a while, staring out the window, not a hundred percent convinced that I wanted to be different.

My mother came into the room, looked at the empty chair and then at me. “Where’s Mrs Pelgrim”? she asked. “Did you scare her away”? she scolded and hurried out the front door. Did I? But she said that she would be back next week? I was confused. I could see my mother crying and my father hugging her. They were arguing, again. I didn’t want to be different.

My brother Charles came through the backdoor, he stared at me and then laughed, I could hear him calling me a freak under his breath as he headed upstairs to his room. I was not a freak, I was just different.

I ran up to my room and locked the door. I wanted to be alone. Mrs Pelgrim was right, there is nothing wrong with me. Anger started to build up inside of me. My parents, my siblings, I was going to show them how wrong they are about me. My fingers started typing on the black keyboard and for the next two hours I researched every website I could find.

Mom finally called us all downstairs for dinner and I made my way to the dining room table. I took my usual seat and mother dished mashed potatoes, roasted pork and green-beans. Father said a prayer and we ate in silence. After dinner, Mary-Louise helped mother clear the table and Charles went with father to the living room to watch television.

I put on my coat, a hat and two pairs of socks and gloves and headed for the shed that stood behind our house. Father kept his garden tools hidden away but I knew where the key was. I took what I needed and hurried back inside.

After what seemed like ages everyone headed upstairs to go to bed and get some rest. I went to my room and prepared myself for what I was about to do next. There was nothing wrong with me, I was just different. Why couldn’t they understand that? I took care of mother and father first, it was bloody and they screamed. Charles came running into the room to see what was going on but I took care of him as well. Mary-Louise came running down the hall and stopped in her tracks when she saw me. She cried and reached out to me to hand over the shovel. I did. I loved Mary-Louise and her kind hearted nature.

The police came. There was blood everywhere. The detective took me to the station and now, now I’m staring out my window overlooking a concrete yard. Do I miss my old life? No. I miss Mary-Louise but she visits me often. Mother and Father came to visit once but Charles is still angry. They are all moving away. I got what I wanted.

There’s nothing wrong with me I am just different.


Word Count: 1001