Gone

Short Stories — By on June 4, 2010 at 11:49 am

Eliqa Jaafar, 5th June 2010

Alone. Abandoned. Miserable. That’s how I really feel. My name is Samantha Brookes. I am an average 16 year old. If by average you mean emotionally unstable then yes I am average. My parents are divorced and my dad has a new family. So I am out of the picture, on the other hand my mom is always working, when she’s not working she’s either sleeping, drinking or dating some random guy she just met. She brings them home sometimes, but I can’t be bothered about memorizing their names. Since there’s three to four guys a week. Why would I want to waste my time. Right? I call every single one of them Dude.

I’m the type of girl that no one really wants to come close to. Their scared I’ll bite them and eat their intestines or something. No idea why. Maybe it’s the way I look. I’m not fat nor am I anorexic. I’m in the middle. My natural hair colour was blonde. I despised it. It just wasn’t me, you don’t see a blonde girl listening to heavy metal or screamo. You don’t see a blonde girl wearing black long sleeved sweat shirts covering the cuts on her wrists. That’s why I dyed it black. My hair has grown though , so I have blonde roots. I have got dark brown eyes which everyone thinks has seen death. How insane right?

It all happened when I came home from school one day and I was in total shock to see all my clothes packed into those big black garbage bags. My things were all thrown into cardboard boxes. Even my posters on the wall were taken down. I don’t remember when was the last time ive seen my walls so naked. My room so vacant. My heart started beating with intense speed. I ran downstairs screaming, ”MOMMM!!!”. She came out of the kitchen with a smile on her face as though everything was fine. “Oh Sam, were moving out.” I was silent. My lips were sewed shut. Then I calmed myself down and restrained from grabbing her by the neck and said, “what do you mean were moving out? Why are we moving out? When did you decide this?” She was still smiling as if everything was normal, as if we moved out everyday. “Oh honey, I lost my job and so I decided we needed a new start so were moving.” I was going insane. I screamed and yelled at her saying, “Just because you screwed up doesn’t mean you have to drag me along with you Mom! You can’t just make me give up my home, my room, my life! I am not going to start fresh anymore. I have settled here!” I walked past her and left the house slamming the front door behind me.

The air sent a chill down my spine. It was almost six and the sun was slowly fading leaving the sky to be an orgy of orange, pink and simply darkness. It was quite breathtaking actually. I didn’t go anywhere and Mom knew that. Every time I throw a fit she knows my cooling off spot would be in the garden next to the rose bed. After about half an hour I walked back into the house. I Looked at my mom who was sitting on the sofa and nodded my head.  “Fine.” I said. “we’ll move.” Then I walked up the stairs into my naked room and dove into my already stripped bed.

The movers arrived around nine in the morning. I was woken up by my mom yelling, “ Sammmmmmmmmmm!! Get your but up!”. I rubbed my eyes and dragged my feet to the bathroom and washed my face. The water was freezing and I was instantly awake. I put on a pair of washed out jeans and a black Slipknot shirt. I prefer being in big clothes since they are more comfortable. I got into the car, buckled myself in and put my headphones on. The journey to my new home began. The drive was five hours. We pulled up to this small house with a huge lawn in the front. It was so green I thought the grass was painted. I didn’t like the neighborhood instantly. It was one of those neighborhoods where teenagers were all wearing pink and helping parents babysit and neighbors being a bit too friendly.

We unpacked and I took my boxes and bags to my room which was upstairs on the far right. The house was smaller than our previous one though. I stuck all my posters on the wall and put all my clothes into the closet. It was starting to feel like home already. My bed was right next to the window overlooking the painted grass. As I predicted I was not going to fit in. I was a girl with black hair and black clothes who listens to rock. These girls wore pink and had blonde hair and listened to Britney Spears. Mom enrolled me in the local school which was a fifteen minute walk from our house. It was getting late and my eyelids were weighing a ton. I allowed myself to freefall into my bed, and sleep.

It was Monday and I had to go to school. Mom forced me up and I had a quick shower and got myself dressed in some black jeans and a black Marilyn Manson shirt. I packed my bag with an empty notebook and my pencil box. I left the house and started walking. There was nothing but green lawns and trees here. It was like in those pictures you see in magazines. It was quite disturbing actually. All the teenagers who walked passed me stared and whispered to each other. All I kept hearing was the word freak. It never really bothered me before but somehow this time it did. They pointed and laughed, I just continued walking. I reached school around half past eight and I went to the office to get my schedule. My class was on the second floor next to the boys bathroom. I walked in and the whole class stopped and stared. It was as though a movie was on pause. There were about thirty students in the class. The teachers name is Mr. Sandro. He was an overweight man with a shiny bald head with glasses on. He looked at me and announced my arrival. “This is Samantha Brookes, she just moved to this school so please make her feel welcomed”. I walked to the back on the right corner next to the window, since it was the only vacant seat available.

I didn’t really pay attention to class. I was daydreaming and doodling on my paper. Then the bell rang and it was time for recess. I just wanted to get this day over with. I walked alone in the hall and everyone couldn’t stop staring. Like as though I was an alien or something. They kept pointing and laughing. Freak. Freak. Freak. The word kept repeating itself in my head. I went to the cafeteria and sat down alone. Ate my food which was this soggy sandwich and an apple juice. Then the next thing I know someone was throwing garbage at me. I felt so alone. I felt as though I was a freak. School continued being nothing less then hell. The last bell rang and it was time to go home. I walked back home and while walking I was thinking to myself, I shouldn’t  have agreed to move, maybe I should get away and not come back. I walked with my headphones blasting Slipknot into my ears. I’m trying to drown out my thoughts with this song but I guess I cant. I went home and my cheeks were wet from the tears that escaped my eyes.

No one was home, as usual. Mom works late and so I’m constantly left alone. I thought to myself, my own mother doesn’t care if I’m alive or not,  my dad loves his step children more then he could ever love me. What did I do wrong? Where did I go wrong? Why me? I went upstairs into my room and filled the tub with hot water. I took my clothes off and slowly lowered myself into the tub. I kept my blade next to my shampoo in a glass bowl. I picked it up and held it between my fingers. The smoothness made it feel so secure. This was how I removed the emotional pain in which I can’t endure. I turn my emotional pain into physical. I place the tip of the blade on my left wrist and slowly allowed it to slice my skin open. A lighting of pain kicked in and my eyes were slammed shut. I let it slide in deeper into my skin and I could start to feel the heat from the cut. I opened my eyes and the water was now red. I was bathing in my own pool of blood. The cut was about five centimeters long, it started to sting now. I knew I wasn’t going to meet death soon because I didn’t cut it deep enough. I got out of the tub and wrapped a cloth around my wrist.

I wrapped myself in a towel and headed downstairs for some cereal. I threw myself on the sofa and started eating while watching Punk’d on tv. It was six and mom wouldn’t be home till about ten. So I ended up falling asleep on the sofa when mom came home from work. She woke me up and started yelling at me because I didn’t clean the mess in the kitchen. “I work all day and what do you do Sam?! You lazy child! What good are you for me?! What can you do besides remain a useless girl?!”. I went upstairs and paid her no attention. This is why I am what I am and I do what I do. I don’t have parents, I don’t have friends, all I have is me, my room and my music.

The next day was another terrible day. I woke up got myself dressed and went to school. This time there were more teenagers walking to school. All of them walked together in a group and I would be there, the only one by herself, the only one who was alone. All of them were staring and laughing. I don’t know how much more of this torment I’ll be able to handle. I was feeling depressed and the day hasn’t even started yet. I walked into class sat where I was supposed to and daydreamed till recess. I sat at the same table alone and I had garbage thrown at me again. It was like that almost everyday. I would come home to an empty house and go upstairs and get into the tub and do what I did. Mom would come home and yell and I would just go to sleep. My life wasn’t worth living anymore. If I died tomorrow no one would really miss me. No one would really care now would they?

The next day I decided to make dinner. Proper dinner and not just some instant noodles you get from the Chinese store down the road. I made some pasta, Spaghetti bolognaise. With my surprise mom came home early and she looked quite happy. I haven’t had a proper conversation with my own mother since forever. So I thought I’d talk to her. “Hey Mom, what’s up? How was work? You look happy.” She replied saying, “ Hey honey, work was really busy today but it was alright.” “That’s good to know Mom, I’m cooking spaghetti bolognaise. It’s almost done.” She gave me a look and I knew what she was going to say. “Honey, I can’t stay for dinner tonight George is taking me out . I hope you don’t mind. I have to get ready now he’ll be here in half an hour.” She went upstairs leaving me in the kitchen alone yet again. She left around seven and told me not to wait up for her. I sat in front of the TV and ate my dinner while watching Mtv.

I wasn’t in the mood to clean up the kitchen. So I went upstairs and decided to just lay on my bed and wait for sleep to come. The room was dark and I was left alone once more. My thoughts were running wild in my head. How could she not care? How could she take me for granted? How could she do this to me? How could THEY do this to me? I sat up in bed and started crying. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. There was a time when everything was perfect. When we would have dinner as a family. Me, Mom and Dad. It looks like it’s never going to happen again. The past cannot be brought back into the future. The past is the past and it will always remain that way.

I wanted to escape this misery. I wanted all my pain to end now. Not tomorrow, not next week but now. I want to be able to free myself from the abusive things I have had to deal with in my sad and depressing life. It was time for me to say goodbye to those who have never really loved me. It was time to show them how miserable I really was. I grabbed some rope from the tool shed outside and went back into the house. Anger and frustration was pouring out of me. The rope was thick and rough and I realized I won’t hold back this time. I wont be looking back at this and regretting it. Not doing this would be a regret. I went into the kitchen and tied to rope to the wooden panels on the ceiling, and made a hoop on the other side. I went upstairs entered my room and grabbed a pen and paper from my desk. Then I went back to the kitchen and sat down and started thinking. Mom would be home soon and I wanted her to come home and see what she’s done to me. What her actions has made me do.

I sat down on the kitchen table and started writing on the piece of paper the words “Are you proud now?” I pinned it to my shirt and dragged a heavy wooden chair from the dining table so that it is placed right under the rope. My cheeks were soaking from the tears which managed to just pour out of my eyes. I walked around the kitchen. I have only lived in this house for a month. It was only a house. Not a home. I don’t really remember when was the last time I had a true home. Unlike other teenagers or children I didn’t have that. I envied them so much. I sat on the kitchen counter and stared at my scars on my wrists. I lightly used my fingers to caress it and feel the texture of my skin. It didn’t hurt anymore.  I want it to remain like that forever. No pain.

I finally stood on the wooden chair and wrapped the hooped part of the rope around my neck. I was standing there with my heart pounding like drums. I was drowning in my own tears which I couldn’t seem to stop. I looked around me and thought finally. No more pain. I still had the note pinned on my shirt. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and kicked back the chair. I was gone. “Are you proud now?”

16 Comments

  1. nikol says:

    Whoa, that was an intense read :p

  2. Elli R. says:

    That was an amazing read. I could relate to certain parts of the story. The story allows readers to understand and realise that not many people always have a happy ending. (:

  3. Yusra!! =) says:

    Very touching…..it was a beautiful story
    Well done Eliqa.

  4. Arizza says:

    Woah, tragically captivating, Eliqa. I was waiting for some sort of salvation for her but :( well done tho 😀

  5. Prince Jeff says:

    Hmmm… amazzing… depth in the story told….
    its .. difficult for me to relate.. as im in the spring..of my life….
    with teenage daughters..in my life… this.. gives me..
    some kind of understanding.. theres ..ripples and under currant ..even on calm..streams….

    im most proud of the writter… amazinn .. imagination..within great reality…

    do write more great stories… and try a chirpy..one this time….life is full of .. happy endings too…

    Warm saalams…. Prince Jeff

  6. aaa says:

    Well done Liqa…. very intense indeed. I think many parents could learn something from this .. looking forward to more!

  7. Randy Oey says:

    A great story, Very intense and it makes you think about life and teenagers. Can’t wait till the movie comes out :p

  8. Elisha Jaafar says:

    Amazing story which is happening a lot in broken families, whether we see it or not. A real eye-opener to a lot of parents out there. Very dramatic and intense as well, as selection of words are very vivid. Great! Keep it up :)

  9. DylanG says:

    Eliqa! Woah that was one story that I can say quite a number of girls mostly could relate to. Shows how loneliness can really can really effect people! Bravo young lady (:

  10. Big Mo says:

    This is Professionally Written!! I Love The way The Details are Written in a way That The Reader (me) Doesn’t Feel The time Passing,i Just Felt like i Was Watching The Poor Girl Going Through it All!!
    A Great Job Done on This..its Simply Beutiful!!

  11. Bob says:

    A very tense an interesting story line. I love the first person narrative technique used, the vivid descriptions and the overall moralizing theme. However there some slight grammatical flaws or typographical errors like in line 7 “Their scared” and “were moving out” in the 3rd paragraph. I guess you wanted to say “They are scared”/ “They’re scared” and “we are moving out” / “we’re moving out”.
    Nice piece Eliqa!

  12. Jaslina Harris says:

    Salam,
    Great piece! Well done. Your writing are alive… Detail n magnifico! Very proud of u bubbless!

    ♥ u,
    Unty Lynn

  13. sabrina hashim ( bonda) says:

    …I think I read it in one big breath or was I holding my breath reading it!!?? I have to take one long deep one to break the ‘oh no!!’ moment!! Good one Eliqa, they’ve said it all My Dear, what else can Bonda say but ‘Im so proud of you & keep it up’; besides your dancing skills – this writing talent is in the blood!!” always, Bonda

  14. Ms. X says:

    There’s a bit of the American Girl series by Meg Cabot and a touch of the movie The Perfect Man. I think it made for a engaging read. =)

  15. Arjumand Khalil says:

    ….Great piece of work. I feel that many teenagers actually experience these emotions and crave for attention. I think parents should read it and spend more time with their family. My heart actually wept for the character in the story. But I feel one should never give in, no matter what the circumstances are. Sam could have made herself a promise to be a better mum than her own. Once again, fantastic writing. Keep it up.;)

  16. Nishi Joshila Gonsalves says:

    That was worth reading!
    Good job :)

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