The Avoidance
Chapter 2
I woke early the next morning, so my mum couldn’t see the pain in my eyes or the deep lacerations upon my blood stained wrists. The paper towel from the previous night was still firmly wrapped around my wrists.
It took me a while to peel the blood soaked paper towel off my deeply lacerated wrists. The blood had dried causing the paper to stick my wounds. My eyes were still bloodshot from the river of tears I cried the night before.
I quietly searched in the bathroom for two bandages to place on my wounds, I eventually found two at the back of the cupboard. I put on the bandages, be careful not to scream out in pain from the pressure increasing on the deep lacerations. I then put on my long sleave school shirt and jumper to cover up the bandages on my wrists.
As I walked down stairs I noticed my mum already down making a cup of tea and some breakfast. She was up earlier than usual this morning, it was an odd sight. She queried my winter entire and I told her that I was really cold and I might be getting sick. She surprisingly believed me.
Mum was nice enough to drive to school again that morning, she dropped right outside the school near the main gate, as I went to get out of the car, she made me give her a kiss goodbye and a hug. It was so embarrassing especially when all the kids that were bullying me yesterday saw it. They were standing at the main gate.
Great, another thing they bully me about and bring my self-esteem down even more than it already is. Thanks Mum!
I walked into the school gate with my head down and my hands in my pockets, I knew that if I raised my head they would know of the pain I am going through by the tears rolling down my face, my bloodshot eyes and the bullying would worsen, it would eventuate to calling me “weak”, “a wuss”, and that alone would put anyone’s self-esteem down. But for someone that already has a low self-esteem, a comment like that would nearly kill them.
When the first bell rang, I tried making my way to my roll call class in the main hallway, I was pushed, shoved, and slammed against the lockers. All I wanted to do was to get to class but everyone else wanted to see me hurt some more.
I eventually made to class, I had aches and pains all over my body from hitting the metal lockers, I have cuts and scratches from the corners and edges of the lockers and little holes in my jumper. I tried to hold back my tears, but it was hard.
On my way to my next class one of the teacher asked me if everything was OK, I replied with a simple “I’m fine” and continued walking.
By that stage, from all the movement my hands had done throughout the morning, writing, drawing, and carrying things, the blood from deeply engraved wounds on my wrists was seeping through the bandages and onto the inside of my jumper. I felt the wet substance and started to freak out.
In all my classes, I decided to sit by myself. I could never force a smile, so everyone started saying “I couldn’t smile”, “I was too weak to smile”, and “I was too ugly to smile”. So people would take those insults with a grain of salt, but me, I cut me deep. I can smile, but I don’t have anything I can actually smile about.
Lunchtime was just like yesterday, my lunch was thrown in the garbage bin and my lunch money stolen. Do these kids ever give up? I sat by myself next to a tree, rubbing my wrists and trying to ignore the stinging sensation. The crimson blood was completely saturating the bandage now, I then wondered why I even bothered with the bandages that morning.
Waiting for the end of lunch seemed like a lifetime, but when the bell, signifying the end of lunch, rang, I jumped up to my feet and in a fairly quick pace made for my next class hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone. Unfortunately during my quick paced walking, I accidentally bumped into one of the popular girls in year 9. She didn’t like the fact that I ‘touched’ her.
Frankly I thought she over-reacted with the whole situation. But she turned around and started abusing the crap out of me. Her fists started to clench, and her face started to go red with anger, her voice got louder and deeper as she yelled at me for touching her. Her fist was then raised to eye level, by now a crowd of kids were surrounding us, waiting for the first punch to be made.
The crowd was roaring for the fight to begin, but the girl was still yelling at me, I stood there like a stunned mullet, not knowing what to do. I could make the first punch and shut her up for a short while, or I could wait to the moment her fist connects with my face.
I decided to wait for the girl to punch me first, and within seconds of me making that decision, WHACK!. Her fist impounded with my face. I felt a sudden shock of pain, and fell to the floor. With my hands held around my face, my fingers searched my face for my glasses, they weren’t there. In the last thirty seconds, I had had my face impounded by a girls fist, and my glasses smashed in the process.
Their loud rounds of applause and laughter in all directions, my head was spinning caused by the forceful punch to my head less than a minute prior. I started to drift off, the crowd started to die down, the images of the kids surrounding me were going blurry and fading. I had been knocked out cold.
When I awoke many hours later, my head was pounding, and my cheek looked like I had placed a cricket ball underneath the skin and sewed it closed. When I regained my consciousness completely, I realised I was in hospital. My mother was pacing back and forth at the end of my bed and I was connected to many different machines.
I was quick to notice, that I was no longer in my winter school uniform, but a short sleave hospital gown. I glanced down to look at my wrists only to find that the bandages had been replaced with new ones. They were no longer the dirty and blood stained ones I had on earlier that day.
Now my mother knew a little bit about what was going on. That was when I decided to say one thing, “I’m sorry Mum...”. She broke down in tears and ran towards me with her hands out stretched. It was the saddest thing to see my mother cry.
It took me a while to peel the blood soaked paper towel off my deeply lacerated wrists. The blood had dried causing the paper to stick my wounds. My eyes were still bloodshot from the river of tears I cried the night before.
I quietly searched in the bathroom for two bandages to place on my wounds, I eventually found two at the back of the cupboard. I put on the bandages, be careful not to scream out in pain from the pressure increasing on the deep lacerations. I then put on my long sleave school shirt and jumper to cover up the bandages on my wrists.
As I walked down stairs I noticed my mum already down making a cup of tea and some breakfast. She was up earlier than usual this morning, it was an odd sight. She queried my winter entire and I told her that I was really cold and I might be getting sick. She surprisingly believed me.
Mum was nice enough to drive to school again that morning, she dropped right outside the school near the main gate, as I went to get out of the car, she made me give her a kiss goodbye and a hug. It was so embarrassing especially when all the kids that were bullying me yesterday saw it. They were standing at the main gate.
Great, another thing they bully me about and bring my self-esteem down even more than it already is. Thanks Mum!
I walked into the school gate with my head down and my hands in my pockets, I knew that if I raised my head they would know of the pain I am going through by the tears rolling down my face, my bloodshot eyes and the bullying would worsen, it would eventuate to calling me “weak”, “a wuss”, and that alone would put anyone’s self-esteem down. But for someone that already has a low self-esteem, a comment like that would nearly kill them.
When the first bell rang, I tried making my way to my roll call class in the main hallway, I was pushed, shoved, and slammed against the lockers. All I wanted to do was to get to class but everyone else wanted to see me hurt some more.
I eventually made to class, I had aches and pains all over my body from hitting the metal lockers, I have cuts and scratches from the corners and edges of the lockers and little holes in my jumper. I tried to hold back my tears, but it was hard.
On my way to my next class one of the teacher asked me if everything was OK, I replied with a simple “I’m fine” and continued walking.
By that stage, from all the movement my hands had done throughout the morning, writing, drawing, and carrying things, the blood from deeply engraved wounds on my wrists was seeping through the bandages and onto the inside of my jumper. I felt the wet substance and started to freak out.
In all my classes, I decided to sit by myself. I could never force a smile, so everyone started saying “I couldn’t smile”, “I was too weak to smile”, and “I was too ugly to smile”. So people would take those insults with a grain of salt, but me, I cut me deep. I can smile, but I don’t have anything I can actually smile about.
Lunchtime was just like yesterday, my lunch was thrown in the garbage bin and my lunch money stolen. Do these kids ever give up? I sat by myself next to a tree, rubbing my wrists and trying to ignore the stinging sensation. The crimson blood was completely saturating the bandage now, I then wondered why I even bothered with the bandages that morning.
Waiting for the end of lunch seemed like a lifetime, but when the bell, signifying the end of lunch, rang, I jumped up to my feet and in a fairly quick pace made for my next class hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone. Unfortunately during my quick paced walking, I accidentally bumped into one of the popular girls in year 9. She didn’t like the fact that I ‘touched’ her.
Frankly I thought she over-reacted with the whole situation. But she turned around and started abusing the crap out of me. Her fists started to clench, and her face started to go red with anger, her voice got louder and deeper as she yelled at me for touching her. Her fist was then raised to eye level, by now a crowd of kids were surrounding us, waiting for the first punch to be made.
The crowd was roaring for the fight to begin, but the girl was still yelling at me, I stood there like a stunned mullet, not knowing what to do. I could make the first punch and shut her up for a short while, or I could wait to the moment her fist connects with my face.
I decided to wait for the girl to punch me first, and within seconds of me making that decision, WHACK!. Her fist impounded with my face. I felt a sudden shock of pain, and fell to the floor. With my hands held around my face, my fingers searched my face for my glasses, they weren’t there. In the last thirty seconds, I had had my face impounded by a girls fist, and my glasses smashed in the process.
Their loud rounds of applause and laughter in all directions, my head was spinning caused by the forceful punch to my head less than a minute prior. I started to drift off, the crowd started to die down, the images of the kids surrounding me were going blurry and fading. I had been knocked out cold.
When I awoke many hours later, my head was pounding, and my cheek looked like I had placed a cricket ball underneath the skin and sewed it closed. When I regained my consciousness completely, I realised I was in hospital. My mother was pacing back and forth at the end of my bed and I was connected to many different machines.
I was quick to notice, that I was no longer in my winter school uniform, but a short sleave hospital gown. I glanced down to look at my wrists only to find that the bandages had been replaced with new ones. They were no longer the dirty and blood stained ones I had on earlier that day.
Now my mother knew a little bit about what was going on. That was when I decided to say one thing, “I’m sorry Mum...”. She broke down in tears and ran towards me with her hands out stretched. It was the saddest thing to see my mother cry.