Status: workingon chaptera
A Dead Girls Story
Chapter 1
A Dead Girls Story
“Outcast”
“If you’re reading this, your part of my reason to commit suicide.”
Those words, Stacy would have never said the s word.
“Yeah I had a pretty rough school life, but to whom it concerns, and that means you, I asked for help, and you ignored me.”
Stacy, you never asked me for help?
“Thus making you apart of my list.”
I hate you Stacy, you always did love to play mind tricks. Even on the ones who loved you.
Stacy’s POV
I once cherished school. I would love to wake up and feel the sun shine on my skin. Waking up to a day, where I would never forget. For it was the first day of high school. A day many freshmen’s fear. I to feared it. I feared not having one friend. Not having someone to sit with at lunch. Not having a kid to walk to my classes with. I use to always care what people thought of me. I was known for my low self-esteem. I hated not liking myself. The boys seemed to have liked me, but that’s for a different part of my story later on.
“What the crap? What boys Stacy?” The reader had in her mind.
That first bus ride, how to describe it? It was loud, smelly, and hot, and the scent of strong cologne made me want to puke. I was the new kid. I was alone. I wanted someone to seat with. That didn’t happen. Everybody looked at me like I was trash, like I was dirt. I was ready to disappear. I thought the day would get better. It didn’t.
“Stacy, I didn’t look at you like you were trash” the reader continued in a confused worried stage.
My homeroom. The place I thought was my haven. Only to be stabbed, better yet popped like a balloon. I was stuck in a room with mainly guys. Their eyes would haunt my nightmares and scare my voice away later on. My homeroom teacher was very nice. Her name was Mrs. Matthews. She always had a smile on her face. Every day I walked into her room, she had that smile on. I wish I could have been strong like her. I had lunch 3rd. I had nowhere to sit. I had no friends. I had no one.
“Lies Stacy, you had me, if only you would have told me” The reader held back the tears she could never cry.
The day seemed to drag on. So far I’m nobody. I’m that girl no one seems to notice is gone or was ever there.
“Stacy, I noticed you slowly dying. Your warmth and happiness, I saw it draining away from you day after day. I’m sorry Stacy.” The reader broke. She cried. She wept those tears she had been holding in for days. She sat there and sobbed, heart piercing sobs. She had to finish the first chapter. She wanted to know what caused her friend to kill herself.
I got on the bus that afternoon. Want to know something. I was alone… again. I got home around 4:30. Mom asked how school was. I told her a lie. I told her I had many friends. I told her I had a bus buddy. I told her I had a best friend. I hate myself for lying to her. As I walked up to my room I realized something. I’m not welcomed here. They hate me. I’m the outcast.
Reader’s POV
Dear god Stacy. I never thought you felt this way. I wish I could have told someone what happened that night. Stacy, just know something. I’m sorry. To me you’re not an outcast; you’re the most popular girl ever. I wanted to be you. You mattered. Especially to me.
“Outcast”
“If you’re reading this, your part of my reason to commit suicide.”
Those words, Stacy would have never said the s word.
“Yeah I had a pretty rough school life, but to whom it concerns, and that means you, I asked for help, and you ignored me.”
Stacy, you never asked me for help?
“Thus making you apart of my list.”
I hate you Stacy, you always did love to play mind tricks. Even on the ones who loved you.
Stacy’s POV
I once cherished school. I would love to wake up and feel the sun shine on my skin. Waking up to a day, where I would never forget. For it was the first day of high school. A day many freshmen’s fear. I to feared it. I feared not having one friend. Not having someone to sit with at lunch. Not having a kid to walk to my classes with. I use to always care what people thought of me. I was known for my low self-esteem. I hated not liking myself. The boys seemed to have liked me, but that’s for a different part of my story later on.
“What the crap? What boys Stacy?” The reader had in her mind.
That first bus ride, how to describe it? It was loud, smelly, and hot, and the scent of strong cologne made me want to puke. I was the new kid. I was alone. I wanted someone to seat with. That didn’t happen. Everybody looked at me like I was trash, like I was dirt. I was ready to disappear. I thought the day would get better. It didn’t.
“Stacy, I didn’t look at you like you were trash” the reader continued in a confused worried stage.
My homeroom. The place I thought was my haven. Only to be stabbed, better yet popped like a balloon. I was stuck in a room with mainly guys. Their eyes would haunt my nightmares and scare my voice away later on. My homeroom teacher was very nice. Her name was Mrs. Matthews. She always had a smile on her face. Every day I walked into her room, she had that smile on. I wish I could have been strong like her. I had lunch 3rd. I had nowhere to sit. I had no friends. I had no one.
“Lies Stacy, you had me, if only you would have told me” The reader held back the tears she could never cry.
The day seemed to drag on. So far I’m nobody. I’m that girl no one seems to notice is gone or was ever there.
“Stacy, I noticed you slowly dying. Your warmth and happiness, I saw it draining away from you day after day. I’m sorry Stacy.” The reader broke. She cried. She wept those tears she had been holding in for days. She sat there and sobbed, heart piercing sobs. She had to finish the first chapter. She wanted to know what caused her friend to kill herself.
I got on the bus that afternoon. Want to know something. I was alone… again. I got home around 4:30. Mom asked how school was. I told her a lie. I told her I had many friends. I told her I had a bus buddy. I told her I had a best friend. I hate myself for lying to her. As I walked up to my room I realized something. I’m not welcomed here. They hate me. I’m the outcast.
Reader’s POV
Dear god Stacy. I never thought you felt this way. I wish I could have told someone what happened that night. Stacy, just know something. I’m sorry. To me you’re not an outcast; you’re the most popular girl ever. I wanted to be you. You mattered. Especially to me.
♠ ♠ ♠
did you enjoy it?