The Blue Scarf
HopeI walked down the dusty sidewalk, enjoying the sun’s rays barely filtering through the clouds, giving the day a spring-like feeling. The backpack digging into my shoulders served as the painful reminder that I’d need to get around to my homework…eventually. I might as well enjoy the walk home to unwind.
I knew exactly what would be waiting for me when I got home, anyway. I’d get to the orphanage (or as I call it prison), only to be ushered off to my room, have one of the wardens stalking over my shoulder to make sure I was doing homework, eat a crappy dinner, and then enjoy being alone for as long as I could.
Upon impulse turned from my regular path home and made a detour, turning into a row of more run down houses. I’m not one to judge, because I don’t exactly I don’t exactly live in a mansion, but the rusted doors and mangy lawns didn’t exactly scream welcome. Despite the bad feelings the neighborhood gave me, I continued on, still determined to make the walk home last.
I heard a scream coming from around the corner, and my legs were moving before my mind could register what was going on. Something you should know about me is that I don’t always think things through before jumping into them, and I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.
As I rounded the corner I saw a group of girls around sixteen surrounding a little girl who couldn’t have been older than twelve lying on the ground. She jumped back up, her whitish blonde hair now mixed with dirt, and she glared at the girls fearlessly with her deep blue eyes.
The tallest girl who had short, jagged, red hair, who I assumed was the leader, spoke first, “Now I’m gonna ask you one more time. What did you with it?”
“I don’t have to answer your questions,” the little girl said matter-of-factly.
“Search her,” said the girl with red hair briskly.
The girl struggled futilely against the girl that easily pinned her arms behind her back.
“Four against one, that seems fair,” I said sarcastically.
They all turned to face me, just now realizing my presence. The leader just scoffed and turned back to the little girl, barely acknowledging my presence. Immediately, I was enraged. There was nothing I hated more than being underestimated.
The little girl stopped struggling when she saw me, and a strange look came over her face. I stepped closer to the group, avoiding the little girl’s wide eyes as they watched my every move.
“Look, why don’t you just let her go,” I said with strained patience, trying my best to reason with her.
She turned toward me, almost a full head taller than me even though we were the same age, and gave me a disdainful sneer. “Why don’t you mind your own business. And what’s with the scarf? It’s almost summer.”
My cheeks got hot, and my hands shot up to my slightly tattered, blue scarf.
I’ve had the scarf for as long as I could remember to cover up a strange scar on my neck. I’ve only taken the scarf off once before. I was five-years-old and a bully at the orphanage kept making fun of my scarf, so I decided to run away (I know, stereo-typical). I grabbed a few things and ran out the door. In my fury, I yanked off the scarf and threw and threw it on the ground.
The only person who happened to be walking down the street was an old woman. As soon as she looked at my neck, she screamed, passed out, and never woke up again. I ran as fast as I could, terrified by what I saw.
I promised myself that I would never tell anyone about the scarf or ever take it off again.
Suddenly, the little girl screamed, “Get off me!” and jolted me back into reality.
With all my icy anger, I was pushed off one the bully gripping on to the girl. The bully stood in shock, not moving
“Run!” I told the girl, who hesitated, smiled, and ran off behind the houses.
“Get her!” the leader barked, and all the bullies scrambled past the one standing frozen, looking for the girl.
“She’s gone,” A girl with long black hair reported.
“Great,” The leader mumbled, turning toward me. “Now, you’re gonna pay for this.” Before I could react, she had my hands pinned painfully behind my back.
“Em, you grab her scarf,” ordered the leader, looking expectantly toward the frozen girl. “Em!” The girl still didn’t move. “Ugh, fine. Melissa, you do it.”
“Don’t!” I shouted, panicky at the thought of losing my scarf.
The girl paused for a moment.
“I said get it!” shouted the leader, getting agitated.
She reached out again, and I kicked back with all my might. The leader gasped and sucked in a sharp breath as her arms loosened their grip. I turned to run, but the leader had quickly regained her grip on my arm, and she roughly ripped my scarf off.
Suddenly, I was blinded by a bright, blue light. I heard a rush that sounded like a crashing wave, but we were far from a coast line.
I blinked, trying to clear the spots in my vision and saw I was lying on the ground. I feebly raised myself onto my elbows and saw the bullies lying on the ground drenched, even the girl who was still standing frozen.
Wait, what? Why were they wet? What stopped them from attacking me? What was the light I saw?
A sudden wave of exhaustion forced me to lie down again, and I felt my lids begin to flutter shut. The last thing I saw was the little girl, smirking at the chaotic scene.
My normal life was officially over.