Concrete Angel | Teen Ink

Concrete Angel

October 16, 2012
By MarieAntoinette2014 DIAMOND, Scottsburg, Indiana
More by this author
MarieAntoinette2014 DIAMOND, Scottsburg, Indiana
54 articles 2 photos 237 comments

Favorite Quote:
Isn't it ironic? We ignore the ones who adore us, adore the ones who ignore us, love the ones who hurt us, and hurt the ones that love us.


The author's comments:
This is told by Mr. Darsen's point of view. Each chapter will flip from him to Mari.

I watched the kids pile into the room, quietly waiting for my block start. This was my first year as a teacher and I was unsure what to do sometimes, but I thought was handling it all pretty well considering.



At the back of the room, I saw a girl. She was a brunette, with big green eyes. I’d seen her before, and she was always dressed in a techno style, with a little goth mixed. She was pale, tired but she looked normal, so why did she catch my eye? As I stood up to go to the front I noticed something unusual. She was alone. No one was talking to her, she wasn't talking to them. Just her and her headset. Why?



After school, I grabbed my satchel and headed out. I may be a teacher, but nobody wants to stick around on a beautiful day.
As I walked across the lot to my truck, I saw that girl... (I think her name was Marina... ) walking down the nearby street. Why did she keep drawing my eye to her? I sighed, knowing what the nice thing to do was.



"Hey Marina!" I yelled. She didn't look at me...ok... I threw my bag in the truck and climbed in. As I pulled out, I drove up beside her and stopped.



“Hey. You want a ride?” She looked at me like I was nuts. Then nodded. I moved my bag and she slid in beside it. “Sorry I don’t remember your name.” I admitted, taking the truck into second.


“Marina. But I go by Mari.” She pronounced it M-ah-r-ee. At least I was close.


“Well, I guess you know I’m Mr. Darsen.” I said awkwardly. She gave me a small smile.


“Yeah, I know. You’re my econ teacher. Your first year here, right?” She asked softly.


“Um, my first year teaching anywhere. I just got out of college. So where do you live?” She rattled off an address and some directions. “So... What’s your favorite class?” I kept trying to avoid another silence.


“I honestly don’t have one. I like art and music.” Mari contemplated.


“Yeah I noticed. You’ve always had a headset since the first day of school.” She looked at me like I was a creeper. “I’m not stalking you! It’s just an observation!” I said quickly. She laughed at my discomfort.


“It’s ok. I get it. Yeah, I listen to a lot of music.”


“Well there’s some CD’s by your feet. You can pop one in, if you want.” I said trying to reach a common ground.

She grabbed the booklet of them, obviously glad for a distraction.
“Which one you want?” She said. “I don’t know many of these.”


“Well, try Martina McBride.” I suggested, trying to think of something a girl would like. She pulled the CD out and popped it in. Concrete Angel’s slow piano filled the speakers. Mari was silently listening to the lyrics, As they echoed around us. When it got to “Sometimes she wishes she was never born.”, I saw tears welling up in her eyes.
“Mari, you ok?” She was silent. At “When morning comes it will be too late,” the tears began to escape her eyes. Her face was drawn, and she was biting her lip. I knew something was horribly wrong.


“Can I shut this off?” She asked suddenly.


“Yeah sure. Sorry, it’s a sad song.” I said reaching for the eject button.


“Yeah... Sad that actually happens. Sad that we can’t fix it.” She said bitterly. I could tell from her face that there was more to that then she would ever say. It made me wonder where that anger had come from... And why it was triggered.


As we pulled onto a street far out into the backroads, Mari spoke up.
“You can let me out here. It’s not far.”


“I’ve drove this far. Might as well keep going. Besides, I live two streets over, on Medford lane.” I answered. She sat back and was quiet for the rest of the ride, until we neared a small, quaint house.


“There. Thanks for the ride...” She said slowly gathering her bag.


“No problem. Since I don’t live far, how about I pick you up tomorrow?” I heard myself ask suddenly. Mari looked at me for a second, like she was calculating something. “Come on. You wouldn’t have to miss the bus anymore.” She let a small smile slide onto her lips.


“Ok...” She said.


“Ok, I have to be there a little early. I can pick you up at 7:15?” I suggested.


“ ‘kay. See you then.” She said getting out.


“Bye Mari.”


“Bye.” She waved.


I watched her, wondering again why she was so wary, thinking maybe, just maybe, she was more than what she appeared.

The author's comments:
Mari's P.O.V. Short, but important, I promise!!!

I walked into the house. Silence greeted me. My mother, Samantha Gracelan, business extrarordinaire, was gone on a business trip... God himself knew when she’d get back. She left often, and I was on my own a lot of my life. When she was home, I avoided her. She was sweet and kind... When her associates were watching. Other wise... Not so much.



Sam had never wanted a child. She’d made it clear so many times. “You are so lucky I didn’t give you up for adoption. I considered it so many times. But, I never got around to it.” Thanks “Mom”. I’d long given up calling her Mom. She was Sam to me. As I’d gotten older, we’d became even more separated. When Dad had died she cried when we went to the funeral, then went to a party that night. Ever since then, we rarely spoke, usually to fight, or for her to tell me how useless I was. We never really never had a relationship. And I really didn't want one with the woman who played so many people into thinking she was a good person, then drank her nights away.

The author's comments:
Mr. Darsen's P.O.V.

When I pulled up, Mari was standing on the curb, hauling her bag covered in a hundred buttons. As she climbed in she gave it a swing into the truck, it came open, and papers went everywhere. She sighed as she got in and started grabbing papers. I waited for some sort of out burst, but it didn’t come.


Instead she gave me an apologetic look and said “ Sorry, didn’t realize it was unhooked.”


I smiled back. “It happens. I’m clumsy, so I know better than most.” I handed her a stack of papers and a photo as I slid the truck out of park. “Who is that?” I asked. She looked at the photo longingly as she answered.


“My mom, dad, and me. That was taken when I was seven or eight.”


“Looks like you were having fun.” I said, not adding the silent question in my head of “What happened?”


“It was my birthday. Sam had put on quite a show with it. So yeah, I was having fun.” Mari stared at it now, with a look that would break your heart.


“Do you have a family?” she asked.


“Nope.”


“No wife or kids?”


“Nope. Just me, myself, and I, oh and a dog. Pretty crowded house.” I joked.


“Sorry, that was nosy.”


“And my questions aren’t?” I admitted, I was nosy, because I was trying to figure her out. “and speaking of which I got another one. What kind of music do you listen to, if you don’t like country?”


“Never said I didn’t like it. Just don’t know much of it. And I listen to screamo, rock, alternative, and techno.” She rattled off.


“So... Everything?” I summed up.


“Yeah. and then some.” She said with a smile. We were silent after that, but that was ok. It wasn’t an awkward silence. It was a silence that left me ready to face the day, and something tells me that applied to Mari too.


When we got to the school, she asked to be dropped of near the library entrance. As she got out, I asked, “You planning on riding with me tonight?”.


“If it’s alright with you. 15 minutes beats an hour on a bus any day, hands down.” She said solemnly.


“Even if you have to put up with my mindless blathering?” I said with an indignant look.


“I doubt you’re mindless. You seem to always be thinking about something. Besides, it doesn’t bother me. At least you seem human. Most teachers don’t. They seem almost... robotic at times.” She looked deep in thought. “Well, see ya.”



“Yup.” I watched as she walked away, wondering how she always left me with something to think about.

The author's comments:
Mari's P.O.V. Sucked to write this.

The morning was passing so slowly, I thought I’d never get past it. During second period, I heard my phone vibrate in my bag. That was either Sam, or my friend two counties over, Cammy. She had moved about a year ago, but we talked often. She was the only person that knew about Sam.
When we got a break, I checked it. Sam. Without even opening it, I deleted it. I didn’t want to deal with him right this second. Mr. Darsen’s questions had brought up all the good memories, and the bad, which I just couldn’t handle today.


I texted Cammy, saying “Hey. U haven’t called in a while. Wat’s up?” No answer.
Cammy didn’t have the best home life. Her parents were drunk 90% of the time, so I was the only one that bothered to check on her most times. She usually replied right away... It worried me that she hadn’t texted back.
Right before seventh period (Mr. Darsen’s class), she finally texted back.


“Ikr. Haven’t had a reason to speak. U kno how much I love you right?... If you don’t well, I love you more than you can ever imagine. And no matter what happens, B.F.F’s, right? Love you sister. I’m always with you...” This scared me thoroughly. I ran into Mr. Darsen’s room, praying I would be in time.


“I need you to come with me. Now!” I murmured to Mr. Darsen, trying to keep the terror out of my voice. He looked at me with concern and stood.


“Class, You have an assignment on the agenda. Get to work.” He followed me into the hallway. “What’s wrong, Mari?” He asked. I whipped my phone out and pulled up the message.


“I think she’s going to kill herself! Last time she wrote something like that, she tried to slit her wrists!” I said, tears filling my eyes.


He read it quickly, gave it back to me, and told me, “Call her now! I’m calling the police. Where does she go to school? Where does she live?”


“I don’t know! She goes to Concord Central high!” I dialed desperately. “She’s not answering. They’ll never make it in time!!!!” He was on his cell, talking frantically. All I could do was pace back and forth. All I could feel was my heart pounding wildly out of my chest. All I could think about was Cammy. Minutes ticked away, until I saw Mr. Darsen cringe.


“Yes. I understand.” He hung up. “I’m so sorry Mari. They were too late. She’s gone.”

The author's comments:
Mr.Darsen P.O.V.

A visitation. A funeral. Nothing could make this real for Mari. The first few days after the funeral, she was subdued. She didn’t talk to me anymore. I wasn’t going to make her. I still picked her up and took her home, but there was no conversation. Just utter silence. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to a month after Cameron’s suicide.


Today was different. Mari climbed in the truck and looked at me, this time, with something I couldn’t identify, then burst into tears.


“Mari, what’s going on? I’m worried about you... I know losing Cammy is still hard, but you’re not alone.” I tried to use my “teacher of the year”, but as she sobbed harder, it split into “Demetrie Darsen doesn’t know what the heck he’s doing” voice.


“Mr. Darsen... I can’t look at anyone, anything or anyone without thinking of her. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I can’t talk without losing it.” Explains her hollow face and dark circled eyes. “I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t let her go. She was everything.” Mari said a little calmer, rubbing her wrists, careful to keep them facing her. A horrible thought occurred to me.


“Mari, hold out your wrists.” I said, making my voice low and calm despite my inward panic.


“What?” Mari asked a little too innocently, but making no motion to do as I asked.


“Let me see your wrists. And your forearm.” I repeated, my voice even. “Please. I don’t think you want me to ask the counselor for you to show her your arms.” Her eyes hardened and she held her arm out. I took it gently and pushed up the sleeves. I looked down and saw what I needed to. Dried blood and old scratches laced her arm. How had I not noticed that before?


“It’s not as bad as it looks...” Mari said her voice trembling. She looked at me with with panicked eyes. I released her arm and sat staring at her. I could tell she couldn’t read my expression, and I didn’t intend for her to. I was having flashbacks of a teenage boy. Arms, similar to hers, riddled with scars, now constantly covered with long sleeves, so he didn’t have to face the embarrassment of explaining his teenage years to anyone. Arms attached to a body setting right next to her. I had been there so long ago. Angry. Hurt. Desperate. I’d spent all my time thinking of excuses for the cuts and new ways to hide them.


“Marina. We need to fix this. You can’t keep this up, or I’ll have to tell someone...”


“Don’t you dare! Don’t even think about it!! I’m not going to any mental institution! I’m not one of those people! It’s fine, not a problem, I heal.” Her voice faltered. All of a sudden it hit me. She hadn’t started this after Cameron’s death... This had been going on much longer.


“How long? How long have you been doing this?” My voice faltered, revealing the trembling I felt inside. Mari sighed.


“The truth?” She asked sadly.


“Absolutely. Don’t you dare lie to me. I’m not falling for it. I can tell it’s been going on for a while, I just don’t know how long. Why’d you even start, Mari?” I asked bitterly. She grimaced and rubbed the spot where I had grabbed her arm.


“Honestly, I don’t know how long it’s been. Years. A long time. Cammy and I were hanging out and she was doing it. It seemed like a good idea. I swear, I never meant to go this far. It’s just so hard to stop. It’s almost a drug. I feel like I actually mean something. Like I’m strong.” She said softly. There it was. Her logic, her reason. Unfortunately, I could relate all too well. Did I tell her? What would she think? Would she tell? Would it encourage her to keep doing it?


“Well, I wouldn’t know why it’d give you that feeling. Your strong without it. All it’s doing is hurting you and I’m sure it’d hurt your parents.” I stopped suddenly at the twinge of ...Something... in her face. Had I hurt a nerve? “I’m sure they love you very much and I’m sure this is killing them to watch.” I continued.


“Stop! Don’t talk about them you don’t even know them! Would you just shut up and drive? We’ll be late. I’ll ride this bus this afternoon.” Mari gave me a cold look. “Don’t worry about picking me up anymore.” This was not the desired reaction!


“No, Mari. I’m so sorry for whatever I’ve done. What’s wrong?” I said watching her expression.


“Nothing. Life’s wonderful, don’t you know?” She said sardonically. For some reason, those words stung. But not half as much as the blank look on her face. My eyes burned, so I put the truck in gear and nailed the gas.


She hopped out of the truck as soon as we got to the school. All day, I couldn’t get our argument out of my mind. Mari didn’t even look at me during seventh period, even when I called her name for attendance. At the end of class she disappeared for a second... I figured she was going to ride the bus, but after a few minutes she reappeared at my side with her bag. I slipped my jacket on and locked up the door.


We were silent as we walked to the truck. When we reached it, I wordlessly unlocked her door, and she climbed. I climbed in the driver seat and cranked the engine. Mari must have realized how bad she hurt me, because after a few minutes, she spoke, her voice soft.


“Mr. Darsen, I’m sorry. It’s just, my Dad died four years ago, and he was a drug addict before that so, he didn’t care. My mom, Sam, she’s an alcoholic when she’s home, so I AM alone.” Fresh tears traced the outline of her face. Ah, Demetrie, you never did know when to shut up.


“Well, not all alone. I’d say I’m your friend. Otherwise, why would we feel guilty about hurting each other?” I started slowly. I couldn’t be mad at her. Not when I’d made it all so much worse. “I’m here for you, kid. I’m not just some teacher that my job ends at 2:55. I care about you and that’s why I’m so worried about your cutting.” I hated to bring that up again, but it seemed opportune. She sighed.


“I know. But, how am I going to stop? It’s a habit.” Mari passed a hand across her face, looking more exhausted than any kid had a right to be.


“I honestly don’t know. Do something instead of cut...” I suggested.


“Like what? I write poems, but most of the time I just end up feeling worse. I listen to music and it makes me wish things were different so I end up doing it anyway.” She sounded so exasperated.


“Well, I’ve got an idea.” I said. She looked at me. “Get out a piece of paper and a pencil, or your phone.” She gave me a look that said, “Ok, he’s flipped.” “Please?” I pleaded. She sighed and pulled out her phone. I held out my hand.


“What do you want it for?” She asked.


“Trust me. Nothing bad. Trust me?” Reluctantly she handed it to me as I stopped for the intersection. I pulled up her contacts and created a new one. I carefully typed my name and my number, and clicked save. As I handed it back, I explained. “Any time you feel sad text me. If you feel like cutting, call me. We’ll talk, and maybe it’ll help. But, you’ve got to be honest about it. Anytime. I mean that literally. I don’t care if it’s three in the morning.”


Mari looked at me doubtfully. “Are you serious?”


“Absolutely.” I said firmly.



As we pulled up in front of her house, she sighed. I put a hand on her shoulder. She looked at the empty drive way.


“Is your Mom away again?” I asked.


“Yeah. But I don’t mind. All she wants to talk about is how stupid everyone is besides her. It’s better when she’s away.” She said with a grimace.


“Isn’t it lonely though?”


“Mm, sometimes. More recently, yes, it’s been lonely. It never bothered me before.”


“Well, my phone’s on twenty-four/seven. I’ve got some errands to run tomorrow, but I’ll be home all afternoon. If you want to ride your bike over, it’s ok.” I hated the thought of her being alone all weekend, and had a feeling she wasn’t anymore eager to stay alone either.


“I might. The weekends are really boring, and I get tired of staring at the walls.” She said with a small smile. It was a tiny one, but the first one in weeks, it gave me a little hope as she gathered up her bag and laptop case. “Well, if I do I’ll text ahead and ask if you’re home. Have a good night, Mr. Darsen, and thanks for everything.” Mari climbed out of the truck with a wave, and I smiled at the feeling of having done something right for once.



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This book has 4 comments.


on Nov. 5 2012 at 7:26 am
MarieAntoinette2014 DIAMOND, Scottsburg, Indiana
54 articles 2 photos 237 comments

Favorite Quote:
Isn't it ironic? We ignore the ones who adore us, adore the ones who ignore us, love the ones who hurt us, and hurt the ones that love us.

It's far from finished!!!!!!!

Honour SILVER said...
on Nov. 2 2012 at 12:10 pm
Honour SILVER, New London, Connecticut
9 articles 0 photos 181 comments

Favorite Quote:
Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. ~John 15:13

"Give me liberty or give me death!" ~Patrick Henry

Be brave and steadfast; have no fear or dread of them, for it is the Lord, your God, who marches with you; he will never fail you or forsake you. ~ Deuteronomy 31:6

"I prefer dangerous freedom over peaceful slavery" ~ Thomas Jefferson

Hmmm, it's not done right?  It's well written, but you said the mirrior huanted Mr. Darsen and it was never mentioned why...is tehre going to be more?

Honour SILVER said...
on Nov. 2 2012 at 12:10 pm
Honour SILVER, New London, Connecticut
9 articles 0 photos 181 comments

Favorite Quote:
Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. ~John 15:13

"Give me liberty or give me death!" ~Patrick Henry

Be brave and steadfast; have no fear or dread of them, for it is the Lord, your God, who marches with you; he will never fail you or forsake you. ~ Deuteronomy 31:6

"I prefer dangerous freedom over peaceful slavery" ~ Thomas Jefferson

OK it didn't seem to post my comment the first time.  Anyways, I thik it's well written and has potenial.  But yous aid in teh summary that the mirrior haunts Mr. Darsen, we never found out why, the books not over right?

on Oct. 30 2012 at 10:04 am
MarieAntoinette2014 DIAMOND, Scottsburg, Indiana
54 articles 2 photos 237 comments

Favorite Quote:
Isn't it ironic? We ignore the ones who adore us, adore the ones who ignore us, love the ones who hurt us, and hurt the ones that love us.

I've spent about nine weeks working on this guys... Please comment... It's important to me.