My name is Talia. Talia Jane Carter. A long-haired brunette. Only child. Seventeen year old. And I wanna tell you my story. My life story that is. And it wasn't exactly a walk in the park. I went through the average pain a teenager would go through. I think at least. I don't want to waste your time, so it would be fair to start from middle school. I'll make it brief. I promise.
Sixth Grade. The year where you enter middle school. In most places, at least. I was one of the brightest kids you'd ever meet. With no knowledge of the world. Of pain. Those were good days. But it all began there. Where kids laughed. They laughed a lot. There was so much pressure... I never really had any friends. My mom and dad said nobody wanted to be friends with a girl like me. There was one girl, her name was Sarah Alice Cooper. Her face is built into my memory. The person who first caused me pain. Real pain.
Sarah was one of those girls who was "ahead" of her time. Everyone liked her. She had so many friends. She was blonde, and was tall for her age. About 5'4. One day, when I was walking home, she called me over to her and her friends. I can still remember the seemingly friendly tone in her voice, her hair pulled back from her face with a pink bow her mother must have bought for her. Her pale skin perfect.
"Talia, right?" She asks, flashing a smile.
"Y-yeah, how'd you know?" I ask. How did she know my name? Did she actually notice me? Did she want to befriend me?
She didn't answer me. Her friends began to circle me. It seemed to be her doing. One of them kicked the back of my knee, causing me to fall to the ground. They all began to laugh. They kick me, to the point where I had bruises on my arms and legs and stomach.
"If you tell anyone, we'll come back for you." She says, an evil grin on her face.
They let me lay there. All alone. And I cried. 'Why did they treat me this way?' I think to myself. It wasn't okay. This wasn't okay. Not in any way. I didn't do anything to them. And I knew I couldn't tell anyone. I could do nothing about it. So I kept my mouth closed. But the pain continued. Her and her friends continued to beat me. Almost everyday. In the hallway, they looked at me with hate. I went home everyday, crying into my pillow, hoping my parents wouldn't hear me. But now I know they wouldn't care even if they did hear. I'm going off topic, shit. I'll continue.
Sarah would ask to be my partner for class projects. And she would make the teachers think I hurt her. She'd make bruises on herself and said I did it. I was almost kicked out of school. My parents beat me when I got home everytime they got a call saying I hurt Sarah. They're brusies replaced the ones that Sarah and her friends left behind on me. I was scarred by the pain. One day, it stopped hurting.
For seventh grade, Sarah and her family spent the year in North Carolina with her grandma. The torture stopped for a bit. I still had no friends. I didn't mind. Sarah was the closest thing I had to a friend. And so you can imagine why I didn't have friends. I was scared of them.
When we reached eighth grade, Sarah and I were close to being separated. Would high school be an escape? Would I be happy again like I was once was? I hope this was the case.
"Dear God,
I apologize you haven't heard from me in a while. I started to think you weren't real. But I believe one day, you'll save me. Mom says you save everyone. But she told me you don't save girls like me. Is that true?"
That's when I got the courage to tell my parents. About Sarah's torture. Her lies. For once in my life I had courage. 'You're finally gonna catch a break!' I told myself. And I haven't told myself a bigger lie. I didn't catch a break. I caught more pain.
"Sure, sweetie." My father said to me, rolling his eyes.
"Talia, how dare tell such a lie? Sarah is one of the nicest girls in the neighborhood." My mom sighs, washing the last dish in the sink.
"Honey, I read about this. She just wants attention. Talia, this is why you have no friends." My father says, finishing his coffee.
My throats clogs up. I'm holding back tears. Why didn't they believe me. All dad cared about was work. All my mom cared about was her reputation. Which seemed to go down as I grew. I think she blamed it on me. Parents always came over telling my mom how I was disrespectful and harassing their children. None of this was true. I've always felt like a mistake. I guess I really am.
Well, that sums up middle school. Now for the true horror. High school.
YOU ARE READING
Alone.
Teen Fiction"Talia Jane Carter. That was her name." Do you ever wonder how life would be without you? If you suddenly died, how would people react? Would they care? Would they remember you? Talia asked herself this everyday. Every waking minute of her life she...
