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"She was found. She claims she was raped by 4 men". The words slipped out of my father's tongue with great strength. I felt the tension suddenly rise in the room. Everyone suddenly stood up, except me. The outsider.
I was born in El Salvador. I have lived in 6 of the poorest countries in the world. I've lived in El Salvador, Nicaragua, Nigeria, Paraguay, Bolivia, and Haiti. I guess you could say I am a little bit depressive, since I tried committing suicide at the age of 9.
I am lost, lost in the road of life. Should I take left, or right? These are the kind of thoughts that cross my mind ever day. Including the day it happened.
It was a Friday. That was the day I found out. It was 12:42 exactly. I was in lunch, sitting next to my 'friends'. Thoughts were racing through my mind. Earlier that week I found out that my mom had a tumor in her breast. That was the thought that I was trying to bury, but it kept on coming back. I tried everything to stop myself from thinking about it, but nothing seemed to work. I tried thinking about boarding school. I remember sitting on Santa's lap a few weeks ago. Instead of asking for an Xbox 360 or some expensive, yet an unvaluable object that would just sit next to my television all day, I asked if I could attend boarding school the following year instead of spending another year at some 3rd world country with a family that doesn't care about me.
I felt a cold finger touch my neck. A chill ran up my spine as I turned around. It was Sister. Sister was one of the popular girls around here, since she did the mistake of dating the rich popular boy the year we got here. She sat next me and my 'friend'. It was disquieting.
"Did you hear. Your Model U.N. teacher got kidnapped", Sister said as if she didn't even care. My back stiffened. I couldn't believe the words that came out of her mouth. I stood up, feeling a little bit nauseous. I left the cafateria in a hurry. Without even noticing, I had started to run.
I ran into the bathroom. I locked myself inside a booth. I was about to sit on the floor, but I noticed the urine. I felt like crying, but for what? Was it because I felt like my whole life was falling apart? Maybe it was because those I thought were my friends no longer spoke to me, or was it because my average fell from a 95.25 to a 89.1? Or was it because my little sister sold me out to my favorite teacher, the teacher whos mom just happens to work at the boarding school of my dreams?
I closed my eyes, letting the darkness consume the remaining dignity I had.
The burning oil hit my face. I suddenly dropped the cooking pan. It hit the floor with a sudden BANG. I just stood there. Watching the pan. It wasn't going to clean itself up, so I went and got the broom from the bathroom. "Well, there goes my dinner", I said to myself on my way to the bathroom. The broom was situated right next to the toilet. The toilet. My one and only friend. The one I had come to several times before. The one I had tried to give my dinner to at several occasions. But, all those times I was unsuccessful. Did I fail because I didn't put my fingers deep enough?
My knees hit the floor. I felt no pain. I got closer to the toilet. I opened my mouth and buried my fingers deep inside. Once again, unsuccessful. The only thing that came out of me was a tear. Hopefully it was my last tear. I mean, there can only be so many tears in the human body, right?
I ran up the stairs. It reminded me of the time I toook track as an extracurricular activity. Those were the good old days. Wait, scratch that. Those were the days that I would get into all sorts of trouble. Those were the days I would cut myself, shoplift, 'egg' people's houses, and so much more.
I sat down infront of the computer. "What should do?", I thought to myself. I had no friends, so "chatting" was not an option.
As I was about to type something, the door opened. It was my dad and my mom. This was when he called us down and broke out the news.
I ran up the stairs after he told us, but for what? I had no tears left. Maybe it was because I was running away from something. Maybe I was trying to run away from all my problems, but somehow they always made their way back to me. Someday, I was going to have to confront them. Maybe that day was today. I guess I was just going to have to wait and see.