I see my glasses shattered across the hallway floor... All I can think is oh great this and now my dad is going to kill me. I just stay there crouched on my knees till they just leave. The bell for class rings and I stay there for a while staring at my books and broken glasses on the ground. What did I ever do to deserve this?
I Grab my books and walk to my locker. My hands shaking so much I can hardly get the combo for my locker open. Am I such a horrid person I have to get hurt? Things are running through my head as I reach in and grab my books. After launch I help in the library so at least I have a quiet place. I grab my spare glasses and put my broken ones in the case. Walking down the now empty halls I can see no once noticed im not in class.
"Yes," I think to myself. The temptation to just leave for good is still there. I try to tell myself that no one will miss me. But then, I can't leave. What am I thinking? Yet - no one helped me. Do I have to leave and help myself? I open the door of the library to a room devoid of people and a big stack of books for me to put up. As usual.
The day drags on longer than it should. At the end of the day the busses are lined up outside the back of the school. I live so far out of town that I have an hours bus ride then have to walk a mile home. Staring out the window I feel the bus rumble as it starts up. I hear the screech of the bus door open… I looked up for a second and immediately felt sick. The 2 boy who had broken my glasses were getting on the bus. I could hear the bus river mumble were they were going while he was looking at the bus pass. They were getting off at my stop. You see there are two houses from my stop. Mine and Old miss Johnson.
Thinking… it made since… Jack and David Johnson. They were going to their grandmothers… I tried to slide deeper into my seat; I guess the noticed and decided to sit around me. One in front and one in back. I moved farther up on the bus and let out a sigh of relief. We left the school and started on our hour bus ride. Watching the tree’s speed by rapidly the bus ride goes by quickly. “I’m half way home!” I think happily to myself knowing very well what will happen when I get home. Everything was going good until I was hit in the back of the head. I turn around knowing very well who would do that when the next thing I know my bus driver Paul is standing above me trying to get the glass lenses shatters from my face while wiping the blood off. I start to fade out. I wake up in a hospital bed. My fathers next to me with blood shot eyes.
I try to speak but I can’t nothing will come out. I’m in restraints… why? The doctor comes in and looks at me. Then looks at my dad. Glad to see he’s away. My dad looks up and shoots me a glare as if saying this was entirely my fault. “Don’t be to rough on him if he doesn’t remember what happened.” The doctor said. “Getting thrown out of a bus is not an easy thing to overcome.” “When can he go home?” My dad asked. “Well. From what I see the induced coma is starting to ware off” “So you should be able to take him home by the end of today.”
I doze of and the next time I wake up a nurse hands me some clothing. She helps me to the bathroom to put on my cloths. They feel…Different… Bigger some how. “Are these mine?” I ask? “Yes” she said plainly. “Your father brought them in today when he found out you could go home. “My dad signed me out of the hospital and we drove home. Nothing seemed real. I stared out my window for a good 20 minutes then asked my dad: “What happened?” He glanced at me as if it was shocking that I didn’t know. Then a look of realization passed over his face.
He took a shuttering breath as if it was hard to say. They found you lying on the ground with broken glass around you 50 yards away from the over turned bus. You were air lifted to the hospital. From what the video tape on the bus shows is that a kid started beating on you and the bus driver stopped at a stop sign to pull him off you. It showed him getting the first aid kit and trying to pull the lenses to your glasses off your swollen face when an 18 wheeler truck smashed into the bus flipping it 10 times into Farmer dells pasture. Mrs. Dell called 911. When they showed up you were the only one out side the bus and hurt. Everyone else was had either a concussion or a burse. But you were dieing.
We were home. But the house didn’t seem like home, it was empty and looked runned down. I walk across the Threshold calling for my mom. I stopped cold im my tracks when I hear my dad say: “She’s gone Damien.” “What?” I asked. “She couldn’t handle seeing you lie there for 2 months in that hospital bed. “2 months?” I asked even more shocked. “What is today?” I asked. “January 15th, 2012” Over whelmed that I missed 2 months of my life and finals were in a week. The only thought that comforted me was the thought that I would probably have to reorganize the whole library. I walked to my room and saw everything was packed…
At that moment something snapped inside of me. They tried to delete me from their lives. My walls were a dark crimson now instead of lime green… I walked past my dad in such a daze I didn’t realize I was crying. I woke up inside the tree house I build when I was 14. At least it hadn’t changed. But I realized I had. I was standing in front of the dark chocolate cabinet with the pad lock on it. I know knew what it was never opened while I was in the house. The lock was on now. My father walked in reading the sports page. “Isn’t time to leave to catch the bus?” he asked. I could feel him eyeing me up and down. “I never noticed how rich of a chocolate brown the cabinet was.” I said walking out the door.
The one good thing about being the last stop to get off the bus was the fact that you were the first to be picked up. When I got on the bus it wasn’t Paul. In fact I had no clue that it was. But I chose a seat were it was hard to see me. You could only see me if you were just getting on the bus. The bus slowed and the flashing red stop sign came out. People were getting on the bus. I could hear someone say my name but I didn’t pay attention. My mind was on what I would do today. I checked my book bag to make sure everything was in it. I felt as empty inside as my bedroom. Boxed up ready to burst with a new crimson leave.
We pulled up to the school after we dropped the middle schooler’s off, and unloaded the bus. I had a meeting with the principle about what I missed and not having to take finals. But none of that mattered today would be my last day here. I was going to leave. I was given my class list and was sent to class. At the front desk I was given a note for my teacher that explain that I was not to take finals and to excuse me from missing the first half of class. I walked up the stares to the class room. When I opened the door it seemed everyone’s eyes went from studying to look at me. I was being stared at as if I were an animal in a zoo… And that was exactly how I felt. I handed the note to my teacher. She smiled up at me as if she really missed me.
I took my seat and could see David snickering at me from his desk in the corner. I smiled to my self. I reached into my bag a knot of anticipation growing in my stomach as I felt the cold mettle of my dad’s gun. It was his prize revolver. I had emptied two packs of bullets into my hoody pockets. I knew what I was about to do was bad. But then again David knew what he did to me was bad and he had no remorse.
The bell for passing time rang. I fallowed David into the bathroom were there were a handful of people. Jack had fallowed me into the bathroom probably to try something against me. When he passed me to stand by his brother, he smacked me in the back of the head. “Bad Idea.” I said. “Oh what is little baby Damian going to shoot me?” He said with a Chuckle. “Exactly.” I said pulling the revolver out of my bag. The look in his face was full of fear and regret. Regret he and his brother ever taunted me. Regret that this would be his last day alive. The first shot came just as the bell for class rang. Then 2,3,4,5 shots rang out until it was just me and David standing. I could hear the teachers running up and down the hall trying to find were the shots came from. The pool of blood on the floor was flowing into the drain built for when a fire happened and the sprinklers went off. I looked David with an amused expression on my face. Tears were coming down his face now. Before it was just a look of fear and stun. “Why?” he cried. I looked long at him… “Why?” I spat. “You have the gull to ask why? When you have made my life a living nightmare!” He became speechless. “I want you to look me straight in the eye when I end this! When I finish what you have been doing to me for the past three years!” I turned the gun to myself and pulled the trigger. The Revolver was out of bullets. The principle came running in and took the gun away. Damian woke up… to hear his mother screaming don’t let them pull the plug!!! Then the slow rhythmic beep for the life support stopped. And he slipped silently into the soft darkness with out a fight.
Note: This is the I believe narrative essay written for LAC2. This story was written graphically to show a more vivid side of bullying. Bullying has pushed some of the victims to commit suicide or even to murder others. I chose this topic because bullying is a big problem going on between students today. It is like a wild fired in the since that when it is started and isn’t stopped soon after or before it even started it is hard to contain it is something that effects teens Daily and is hard for some of them to live with.
Subject: Solitude In An Instance 
Mon Oct 17, 2011 4:53 pm
