Exclusion

May 19, 2009
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She sits lonesome, her back towards the world in the lunchroom. Tears run down her cheeks as a tightly wadded paper ball hits her in the back of her head. Deep in her heart, she hopes tomorrow will be different, even though she knows it will be worse. She hears the laughs of the “popular” crowd and the feeling of humiliation fills her heart. She looks at the clock and counts how long until the bell rings, until she is saved, until she is herself.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1… the bells rings, she quickly grabs her things as a tall boy approaches her. She stares down at her feet as she tries to step away. She trips on the boy’s foot and trembles down. He chuckles hysterically and walks away while she lies on the ground. She looks at her knee, scraped up and bruised. After the boy leaves, she scurries to her next class, and finds her seat in the back corner. She doesn’t pay attention in class; instead, the teenage girl ponders ways to protect herself and only one way comes to mind.

The end of the day has approached and she walks home, looking down at her feet once again. She walks in the door and her mom greets her with dinner. Her father asks her of how her day was. She sits in her seat quietly. Her eyes become flooded with tears. She asks to be excused and sprints to her room and shuts the door. She crawls under the covers and pulls them above her head. She pulls her teddy close to her as she tightly closes her eyes. She returns back to pondering of escape routes. She runs her one idea in her head over and over until she makes her decision.

After collecting herself and deciding what she was going to do, she returned to the table where her parents were eating dinner. Happier than ever before, she engaged in the conversation. She spoke of college plans and future vacations. After everyone had finished dinner, she gave each a big hug and whispered “I love you” in their ears.

She walked down the hallway back to her room. Grabbing a pad of paper and her favorite pen she wrote a letter to her parents. After, she put on her favorite outfit and walked into the bathroom. She took a thick braided rope with her and made sure the loop was just big enough for her neck.

The next day at school, a withered voice came onto the announcements. He announced Emily Padilla had committed suicide. Students and teachers in each classroom bolted out in tears. The select few of “popular” people knew why and their hearts filled with guilt.

At the funeral, Jake, the boy who tripped her, spoke words of Emily. He apologized and will forever live with the sorrow of emotional murder.





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