It's Not My fault

June 23, 2012
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I am a eight year old girl and I had the perfect life before I was eight. No one knew why I had trouble with my school work in Second grade, but me. Every few letters I read would get jumbled up with another. With one call home my life was coming to a slow end.

Stepping off the bus onto the dusty dirt ground that I called my front yard. Racing into our shack that was my home, slamming the door, and grabbing a snack I went to the kitchen table and started my homework. When I finished math I started reading with my Junie B. Jones book. Trying over and over again on one single sentence that made no sense I gave up and started crying. Letting out all my frustration I cried as loud as I could waiting for my dad to enter. When he did I wish I never cried that loud to begin with.

My dad, red and furious, walked over to the table and picked me up. He shook me hard hard as he could. When he set me down the last thing I remember was his hand coming toward my face and Rosie my dog licking me to stay awake. Rosie was my only true friend, she was the one who understood me the best, and she was the only thing I really honestly care for in my life. Creeping to look in my mirror, trying not to make a sound knowing he was right down the hall, I examined my face. A tiny gasp of panic came from my mouth. The right temple down to my jaw bone was swollen like baseballs were stuffed into my head and stuck there, and red hot lava was pouring down from my hair. The door slammed open and my mom charged in!

“ Oh GREAT! You’re up!” she said oh-so-secretly, with that I nodded. Taking no notice to my face she dragged me out to the kitchen. Laid out on the table was my book, pages worn and torn, I walked over and picked it up. Then I was sent to bed.

The next morning I woke up before my parents as usual and got some crackers to eat. Hopping onto the bus I noticed everyone’s eyes glued to me. At school I was known as Brooky Burke the mute girl, the girl no one ever noticed. I guess my face changed that for me today. When Mrs.A saw me she looked concerned, but didn’t bother to point it out. I went throught the day easy until we had the 1 minute read to our teachers.

“ The noisy bog parked at the lazy dig,” I whispered to Mrs.A knowing I did something wrong. Later that night the phone rang and my mom answered it.

“Oh! Hello Mrs.A!” exclaimed my mom in a nervous voice. Right when I heard that I knew it was my cue to leave, so I went to bed.

Once I got up I called for Rosie to take her for a walk. After 5 minutes of calling her name there was no sign of her. My mind racing, anxiety taking over, I ran outside to look for her. Noticing a huge lump in the road I ran to it. Looking down at it, it was Rosie my black lab. Flies buzzing around her, a horrid aroma surrounding her, the sogginess of her blood on my bare feet. I couldn’t bare to imagine the car that hit her like they did. I stroked her paw one last time letting the silence of the rain and the remaining taste of my gum fill my thoughts.

Waking up my mom to tell her what had happened to Rosie all she said was.

“Like what I had done to poor little Rosie since I got that call home from your teacher?”


Kicking my leg with her foot, whacking me in the ribs with her fist, twisting my arm as far as it could go she didn’t let me finish. Locked in my room with nothing to do, locked in my room counting the injuries, locked in my room that was filled with sorrow left to be hidden. Thinking to myself there must be a way to get out of here, then I found the answer. Wiping off the dust on my window sill, scanning my hand down the rigid screen. I saw the screws that led to my answer. I could already sense the lingering scent of the flowers outside and the semi-salty raindrops landing on my tongue again. CRASH, the screen fell out of my window, and my mom ran into the room. She whacked me on the top of my head like there was no tomorrow, biting my arm with her teeth she broke my skin and I began bleeding.
Tonight was going to be unbearable, who knew what would happen next. My body ached like a elephant was laying on top of me, my skin was no longer pale but covered in a yellow and blue coating. I went to sleep but was awoken by my dad’s bulldozer steps into my room.
“Why did you trouble your mom today Brooky? She did nothing bad to you.”
Feeling kind of dizzy I responded.
“I don’t know.”
With that he hit my temple and the pressure point on the back of my neck so hard everything went black.
I was a eight year old girl who had the perfect life before my teacher called home concerned about my face and telling my mom that I had dyslexia.

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This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

hippiechick99 said...
Jun. 29, 2012 at 4:41 pm
Wow, really amazing. So emotional at the ending... much better than anything I've ever written. Love you DZ, keep writing. :))))))
hippiechick99 said...
Jun. 29, 2012 at 4:38 pm

Wow, this was amazing. Even though it was pretty short, I almost cried at several points in the story. My only question is, did the girl die at the end of the story or did it just end with her blacking out..?

Great story, DZ, keep writing! :))))))

DZdancer replied...
Jun. 29, 2012 at 4:48 pm
she died at the end from all the abuse she was put through! im thinking about writing another one to this one that will give more detail and background info! :)
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