She was different she was made fun of. Those that were cruel to her did not know the price they would have to pay. Cut after cut with the shaving razor hoping to hit an artery. All she wanted to was to have friends. She came home to a trailer windows broken the doors did not close not even one curtain. Mom getting high in the kitchen, every night a new man would come to the house just to give and take. They would laugh, hug, and kiss after all the fun and games it usually escaladed into fighting and cursing at one another. She worked so hard for her money just to eat. That next day at school, she took a chunk of glass with her. In third period math, the “cool” kids where fresh of nasty remarks and comments. She was ready to show them, pay back was here and ready to strike like a viper for its prey. She would flip the tables on them. She brought out the chunk of glass and everybody became silent, fifteen bolted toward the door. Six remaining including the teacher she said, “Why did you treat me like this, I just wanted to be friends.” “We’ll be friends.” Said one of the girls’ nervously, “Too late for that,” She lunged toward the girl that spoke; the glass struck into her right arm. She fell in pain and suffering but not a peep of crying. The girl with the weapon looked at what she had done to a girl that was just like her but had a different life style. It shot her, why have I done this. She fell to her knees and yelled, “I am sorry I couldn’t be perfect in your eyes!” She raised the glass high above her head and plunged it into her chest. She fell back as her eyes slowly closed and her life drifted away, her sole fading away. She was gone. The teacher called 911 and the five kids took the one stabbed to the nurse. They all new they did this; they did not like people that were not just like them. One of the people said, “I beat she was a great person, we really missed out.” As tears rolled down their faces, acting as if it was blood. The paramedics lifted the faded sole onto a stretcher and carried her away.At the funeral, the six kids that were the cause of this came, laid three red roses and three black roses on the coffin, and walked away as tears filled their eyes. The victim stayed behind, “I’m sorry; I’ll be a better person.” It was a lie of course; not all those kids will ever change their ways. As she waked away the engraving in the head stone said, Brook Patch 1994-2006A voice that no one heard and a girl that no one loved. A broken heart that needed to be patched up, an angel face that the world would soon forget, such a cold place for such a sad little girl. Moreover, all she wanted was to have friends.
Tragedy
Created on 3-28-08
Views(74)
Story Rating G
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