Short Story Collection

Ghost Girl Part 1

Trigger warning: Mentions depression and suicide. Don't read this if you don't want to.

"Zoe Hutchinson."

A week ago, if you said that name in front of a random group of students, these would be the typical responses:

"Are you talking about that weird girl?"

"You mean that freak."

"Doesn't she fail everything she tries to do?"

"Ugh, she's sooo ugly and annoying."

"She doesn't have two brain cells to rub together."

Now, that random group of students, along with the rest of us realised that wasn't exactly true. In fact, it wasn't anywhere near the truth. But by the time we realised, it was to late.

Nowadays, if the name Zoe Hutchinson was even mentioned at all, responses would be so different.

"That poor girl."

"She didn't deserve it."

"She's in a better place."

"Uh huh. Wanna go eat lunch?"

This made me furious for two reasons. One, they pretended. They cried crocodile tears, moaning on and on about how Zoe was their friend and they were 'so sorry' to hear of her fate, how they had no idea why this happened and that Zoe was such a lovely, sweet perfect little girl. Two, they went on with their life. That showed everyone that they didn't really care. They didn't care that their classmate died last week. They refused to even acknowledge she existed, if they could get away with it. As if they weren't partly to blame. As if they didn't hurt a fifteen-year-old girl so bad she ended her life. Of course, I was being a hypocrite, because I was barely better to her than they were. But I still hated them for it, I guess it was easier than admitting to myself I had some part in her death. I kept telling myself I didn't do anything, then I realised that was why I was no better than them.

I did nothing.

To me, Zoe was an average student. Obsessed with Volleyball, probably the thing she did best. Talkative. Clumsy as hell, she nearly spilt chocolate milk on me once. She wanted to be my friend, but I didn't want anything to do with her, thinking she'd only annoy me to death. That was the thing I regretted the most in my life, not giving her a chance. Ignoring her when she tried to talk to me. Watching as she was bullied by the popular kids. Watching as she ate lunch in a corner of the library, buried in one of her books, hoping no one would find her. Watching as she silently cried in the beanbags of the rare study periods we sometimes got, hoping no one was watching. I didn't encourage the bullying, but I didn't try to stop it either.

---------------

"Check it out! It's Zoo-Zoo! Ew, what is she wearing?"

I heard laughter at the school gate and I looked out the widow. There was Zoe, surrounded by a crowd of students, crouching in the dirt and trembling, soaking wet from the cold water Jenny had just poured over her. 

"You look homeless." Giggled Jenny. "Have something to eat!"

And with that, Jenny poured chicken soup over Zoe, who flinched but said nothing. I figured she was used to it by now, she was bullied every day. I don't think those kids knew what the consequences of their actions would have been. At least, I hope they didn't. I certainly didn't, or else I would have tried to help her. But after seeing what they did to her, I can't say I was really shocked when we learned Zoe jumped off a building two days after that happened.

"Leave her alone!"

That came from Natalie, probably the only girl in the whole school that actually cared about what happened to Zoe. Natalie pulled Zoe up and started to drag her towards the bathrooms to get cleaned up. The next time I saw Zoe was on the train home from school. She was wearing Natalie's spare clothes that were a bit to big, but otherwise were a lot better than her other clothes.