Not Good Enough

Brandie Mannor hugged her legs to her chest, allowing her tears to free fall as they please. It had been going on the fourth year of torture, but it could never be stopped. The school, the teachers and the parents couldn’t do anything about it.

It was just them. They had connections, they had everyone wrapped around their fingers like a snake on a rat. She wiped furiously at her swollen eyes, trying to stop the voices in her head from reminding her what they had to say about her.

“Brandie!”Loud, obnoxious bangs occurred on the bathroom door, but she only covered her ears.

“Brandie! Come on, babe, we didn’t mean it!”They always meant it, every word they could muster up.

She could hear them faintly through her covered ears, but not enough to feel the pain that was hidden behind each syllable of their comments. There was one person, in particular that struck Brandie hard. No matter what she did, he was always there to remind her of how much of a fuck up she was.

His name was James Sullivan, and he was the worst out of all of them. He was the laugh of the school, in a good way and could get anyone on his side. They say you could never hate him because he was so care free and fun, but Brandie knew the meaning of hate when his name came up.

The banging eventually stopped and she slowly uncovered her ears. Her pale grey eyes scanned the doorway, but upon finding no one, she slowly crawled to her aching feet. She stepped cautiously to the wooden door and gripped the silver handle. She knew they were behind the door, she could feel it.

She would pull it open and they would grab her, drag her down the hall and embarrass her like they always intended to do. Only this time, she opened up the door and found no one. Not a single soul was present in the hallways. Everyone had gone to class; they had forgotten about the misfit of the school.

Her eyes welling more in tears, she ran from the bathroom, her footsteps echoing loudly throughout the halls. She needed to leave before one of them found her. She wouldn’t be alone for long. She pushed past the doors to the school, running like an animal toward her safe haven; her car.

As she stopped at the door, she dug furiously into her front pocket for her keys. With her free hand she wiped back her tears, trying desperately to see where the key needed to go. She sniffled softly as the door finally unlocked. She was home free; she had made it.

“Where you goin’ sweetheart?”Her driver door slammed shut, catching her coat in the process.

Brandie turned slowly, finding Jimmy standing above her. She whimpered softly, knowing that even though the parking lot remained empty, her pain was his pleasure.

“Please, Jimmy, just let me go home.”She whispered quietly.

“Now why the fuck would I do that?”He cackled.”This is just too much fun.”

“You’re better than this, Jimmy. I know you are.”Her whispers were silent as he took hold of her upper arm.

She winced in pain, knowing his tight grip couldn’t be faught out of. She was now in Jimmy’s hands, and there was nothing she could do about it. Brandie tried to back away, but his grip tightened and her coat snugged against being stuck in the door.

“Come on,”She cried softly.”just let it be one day. One single day.”

“Sorry, Brandie,”He began.”I just can do it.”

“You don’t know what this does to me.”She whispered softly.

Jimmy didn’t realize the pain he had caused her. His friends were always in on the process of joking around, but it never occurred to them that it was slowly eating Brandie up inside. Jimmy found the torture to be less fun, more so each day.

Yet how could he tell his friends that? He could slowly feel the pain he put her through, but wouldn’t be able to control it. His friends were there, so he had to make an impression. Jimmy scoffed back his hair with his hands before letting a sigh escape his lips.

“Just go apologize, Jimmy.”A hand rested on his lip as he thought the idea over.

He admitted to his friends that he could no longer be in on the harassment. He had had enough of taking advantage of the weaker in the school. He had fallen apart when he realized that he could slowly be killing Brandie and not even know it.

It was time to start anew; make a new friendship. Jimmy knew it would take possibly years for her to forgive him, but it was worth it all in the end. He essentially felt for Brandie, but knew it would only be a matter of time before something could happen.

She could move away, get home schooled, attempt suicide. He had read over and over again about bullying in schools and never knew the extent it had fallen to. He had to get to Brandie’s home. He had to apologize and make new amends with her. He had to.

He found himself dragging himself to his old car and sitting lazily in the front seat. He rested his head against the steering wheel, attempting to think of what he could say to Brandie. How would he even start out the conversation? What would he say when she opened the door and found him there?

He pushed the car into reverse and left his long drive. He had gotten her address a long time ago when him and the guys went to her house, but that didn’t end like they thought it would. She only locked herself inside, refusing to come out until their patience grew low.

They gave her hell the next day in school for it. He pulled up alongside of the driveway, looking apprehensively in her direction. He was nervous, but he only wanted to set things right. It would all start with a simple, I’m sorry.

He stepped out of his car, walking slowly up to the front door. With shaking hands, he gently knocked. Upon hearing no movement, he tried again, but harder. He rocked back and forth on his feet until he still got no answer. With an aggravated sigh, he started to walk around the house.

He knew Brandie was home; she had no friends in the school. He knew she would be home because her car was sitting in the driveway. He stepped up to the living room window, finding nothing but the tv blaring. He took a few more steps, finding a small silhouette in the kitchen.

He knocked on the window, but didn’t gain her attention. He tapped again, but she only glanced over. Her eyes had glazed over in tears and her cheeks were blushed red. She had been crying all day, but for what, exactly? He hadn’t bothered her in a few days.

“Brandie!”He tapped louder on the glass, but froze when he saw her hands.

Brandie held a simple kitchen knife in her hands, but that wasn’t what scared him. It was the blood dripping from the shimmering blade that forced him to freeze.

“Brandie!”He began to pound on the window, trying to stop the feeble girl.”Brandie open your door!”

He ran around to the front, slipping on wet leaves in the process. He began to slam his fists on the door, pounding and pounding but received no answer.

“Brandie!”He cried.”Please, open up! Let me talk to you!”

His cries did nothing as she continued to torture herself. Jimmy began to ram his shoulder into the door, hearing it crack under the pressure. He stepped back one, before letting his foot come up and hit the door with a loud bang. The door cracked; one more good hit was all it needed.

He kicked it again, watching as the door slightly folded in, allowing a small space to crawl through. He pushed through the tattered wood, earning cuts and scrapes along the way. Jimmy rushed to the kitchen, finding Brandie falling to her knees.

“Brandie! What did you do?”He fell to his knees as well, taking her gently by the shoulders.

She looked up, shaking her head in disbelief.

“What are you doing?”She whimpered quietly.

“I came to apologize. I’m sorry, Brandie! I’m sorry!”He cried.

Her eyes slightly rolled back, forcing panic to run through Jimmy’s veins. He had to call an ambulance, he had to get her safe. He pulled his hands from her, searching desperately for a phone. He reached for it, stopping to look down at his hands.

Blood stained his tan skin, forcing his stomach to turn slightly. He had never expected this to go so far; he knew it was their fault. Mainly, his. He pulled the phone from the wall, dialing with shaking hands. An ambulance was on their way, but he didn’t know if it would be quick enough.

“Brandie,”He pulled her into a hug.”I’m sorry.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, letting his eyes well in tears.

“Why?”He asked.

She was dying in his hands and he couldn’t do anything to save her. He had permanent stains on his hands now. The blood would always be on his hands, no matter how hard he tried to scrub his mind from it. He looked down at Brandie’s arm, crying when he saw the blood.

In deep, hard letters read not good enough. He tightened his grip around her, feeling her small body finally go limp. He pressed his face in her hair, crying loudly. He had caused such a beautiful creature to die and he couldn’t reverse the damage he had done.

“Brandie, I’m so sorry.”He could never let her feel again.