“No!” I yell, in my firmest most commanding voice. “I’m not going!”
My mother took a step back, slightly abashed. “Sweetheart,” she says, tranquil and motherly as always. “You’ve got to go to school.”
“No,” I say, hearing my voice quaver as I forced it out of my tightening throat. My hands were shaking. I did not want to go to school.
“Sweetheart . . .” My mother said again, moving towards me with her arms out stretched.
I spun around and ran down the hall into our bathroom, locking the door behind me. Turning the faucet of the shower I listened to my mother knock and beg me to come out from the other side of the door. I undressed and stepped into the scalding hot shower.
In an attempt to calm myself I took a few deep breaths and tried to think rational, positive thoughts. ‘It’s just school’ I think to myself, ‘What’s the big deal?’. My limbs still felt like jelly.
Why did it have to be this why? Why did I have to have these weird feelings whenever I was... anywhere. It was embarrassing. I know something is wrong with me, but that really makes not difference. Don’t I have the right to do what I want. I mean, this is America for heavens sake. The land of the free, the home of the brave. Brave. Why can’t I just be brave enough to do things I don’t want to do?
I couldn’t think of an answer. Nothing was going to change my mind. No one could make me do anything.
My mother pushed the door open. I let out a little scream and pulled a towel around me.
“Madeline,” My mother said, her cheeks blushed with anger. “Get dressed this moment or I will dress you myself.”
The tone of her voice warned me she was not kidding. I pulled on my clothes.
Without another word my mother grabbed my by my wrist and yanked me out of the bathroom. I followed her unwillingly, feeling my skin warm with my speeding heart. My mother pulled me through the laundry room and into the car garage.
“Get in the car,” my mother said, still using the stern instructions she rarely used. I slid into the back seat of our Ford Expedition. My 2 younger brothers and older sister were already in the car. My backpack and tattered shoes were at the floor by my feed. My mother got in the car and backed out of the driveway.
“I’m sorry about the wait ” my mother said to my siblings. She drove my younger brothers to their elementary school first, kissing them goodbye as they set off for the day.
“Can you drop me off here” my 15 year old sister said to my mother. “I don’t want to be seen with her.”
My head snapped up at her comment. I felt my throat begin to tighten up again.
“Fine,” my mother said. Resisting an argument with my sister, while she was in an argument with me.
My sister got out of the car and blew my mother a kiss. We continued to drive till we reached the high school.
“I’m not going” I said weakly, as one final attempt.
“Just get out Madeline.”
I did as she said, hating her from the pit of my stomach.  I walked into the doors of the high school. I walked as fast as I could to my locker, spinning the lock right, left, right. I pulled it open, grabbing my books for the whole day and went to my class. The day passed in a fog, first period, second period, third, fourth, and lunch. I sat with the usual people, fellow misfits Alicia and Rachel. They were the only people who would have me.
While I stood in the lunch line I saw the table of ‘popular’ girls and boys. They were all attractive. They were all happy. They were all perfect. They all burst into mutual laughter. I felt my cheeks warm. They were laughing about me. I knew it. The fat girl with frizzy hair and bad skin.
Forgetting lunch, I left the cafeteria and went into the bathroom. I stayed there, locked in a stall until the end of the day.
“How was school?” My mother said to my sister and I after we got in the car.
“Just great,” My sister said sarcastically, not paying much attention.
“Bad,” I said.
“Oh don’t be so dramatic!” My mother said, “Its the first day after break, you’ll readjust in a couple days.”
I looked out the window. There were all my fellow high schoolers, all in little groups. I hated it here. I would rather die then be here, around all these people. Die. I thought about it for a moment. The heavy, constant weight in my chest lightened a bit at the thought. I could kill myself. I could die, and it would all be done. I wouldn’t have to endure it any more.
I felt the ends of my mouth curve into a sneaky grin. It would be the sweetest revenge of all. My mother seeing me dead. Maybe they wouldn’t care. Maybe they would be thankful of my death. Maybe it would be a favor to them. If they were actually sad then that would be even better, I could cause them a bit of the pain I feel every day.
I would be free. I would be brave. Brave and free for the first time in my life. I would dare to do the unthinkable, die. Only the bravest of all brave people are willing to die for freedom.
It was a win win situation. Nothing could stop me.
When we got home I went to my room and closed the door. I sat at my little desk and pulled out a notebook and a red ball point pen out of the drawer. I could not think of much to say, so I said the only thing that I felt. :


Dear Mom, Dad, Rebecca, Josiah, and Tom,

You did this to me

-Madeline Safford

I folded the letter and put it on my bed so they would see it. I took a pair of scissors off my desk and as quick as I could, thrust it into my throat.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 07.05.2010

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