Keeping Secrets

Destiny Faith glares out her window, her arms crossed over her chest and her posture tight. Her father slams the car door shut, annoyance clear across his features as he walks heavily towards the door. Another long day of work for him. Another long day of being stuck inside for Destiny. Her mother is long gone, having left late last night with no phone call or note for her absence. Destiny's guess is that she's never coming back. Wouldn't surprise her much. She's always kind of guessed that her mom would one day leave.

It's seems like something that runs in the family. Her mother used to tell her stories about how her mom left her and her dad when she was young. Destiny doesn't blame her mom though. She wishes desperately that her next attempt succeeds. It's all she asks for. She doesn't know why her last five attempts have failed, but she knows it pisses her off. Destiny listens as her father slams the front door shut behind him, his heavily padded footsteps echoing throughout the house. They go into the kitchen, where she knows he's grabbing a beer, and then a few seconds later they follow into the living room. Destiny knows he'll spend the evening glued to the couch watching TV, only occasionally getting up to grab another beer.

Destiny rolls her eyes as she thinks about the never ending cycle she sadly calls her life. She glances at the clock to see it blinking blue numbers; 4:35. She glances around her room, sighing at the dreary light grey walls and black bed sheets. She picked these colors to show her pain, but neither her mother nor father seemed to get the hint. Her hard wood floor is covered in black words, perfectly printed. It took her four hours just to do one set of stanza’s. Some people might think its’ weird, but its poetry written on her floor. At night, when her dad would bang around downstairs and fight with her mom before she left, Destiny would read the words written on her flow, over and over.

Destiny had a favorite poem she would read in her mind over and over, to the point where she has it memorized. She calls it All My Scars and often traces the handwriting with her finger, imagining all her pain seeping from her fingertip to the words.

You look at me. I look at you.
But all you see are scars.
Some were put there by my hands
and others from my heart.
They travel down from head to toes,
bleeding crimson blood.
So by the time you understand,
I'll be sinking down.
Buried in my own red wine,
thick and running dry.
Someday it all ends anyway,
So why not give it a try?

It’s been exactly one week since she sent the letter to Cody Simpson. She wonders if he got it. Of course, she'll never truly know because she never put a name or return address. She would never tell him her twitter name or that fact that she lives in Ohio. Those are her secrets; the only ones she won't reveal to him. She'll tell Cody anything else; like how her dad hit her and abused her mom, or how she cuts every night, so deep that her scars never go away, or that people at school call her a lesbian and call her names and push her around. She'll admit that she's been beat up after school and shoved in lockers. She'll admit that her life is anything but perfect, but she won't admit that she needs help. She won't admit that she can make her life better. Destiny wants nothing but to die.

But how do you go about doing that if every time you've tried you've failed?

Destiny wakes up to the sound of her dad slamming the door behind him on his way out to work. That’s her cue to get ready for school, although she’d much rather stay in her bed all day, just hiding under her covers where everything seems better for a little while. Nonetheless, she pulls the covers down and places her feet delicately on the ground, loving the rush of coldness that creeps up her legs and through her body. After the cold has settled onto her mostly naked skin, she stands upright, crossing the room in long strides to open her closet. Long, dull black sweaters peek back at her. She glances down at her arms, sighing heavily.

Deep, dark red scars go across her wrists and up and down the underside of her arm. Some are pink, raw looking and others are just dark. If someone were to run their fingers along my wrists, they would feel nothing but bumps from the harshness of the cuts. Destiny never meant to come this far into oblivion. In fact, when she first started cutting, it was just meant to be a phase. It was meant to be something to try. She never imagined that she would become addicted to it, and that it, in the long run, would become an incredibly large part of her life.

Destiny reaches in and grabs one of the dull sweaters, tossing it over her head and then grabbing a pair of black jeans. They are baggy. She slips some socks on and then her shoes, old and ripped apart from years of use. She walks across the hall to the bathroom, brushing her teeth carefully and slowly, and then tucking a free lock of her curly dark brown hair behind her ear.

She slowly strides down the stairs, grabbing her backpack as she walks and throwing it over her shoulder. She opens the front door and slams it close behind her. Destiny heads to her car and gets in, starting the engine and driving to school.

At school she gets out of the car, looking around warily. She reaches into the back of her car to pull out an overly large black hoodie, slipping it on and pulling the hood over her head. She had a long weekend, and she doesn’t need to be pushed around on the first day of the entire week she has to endure. She closes her car door and strides up to the doors to school.

“Austin, look it’s the suicidal freak!” One of the kids calls.

Austin Star is the most popular guy in school. He’s also the biggest asshole. Destiny cannot remember one time he had ever done anything nice. Ever since she’s come to school here, he’s done nothing but make her life hell. Him and his other pathetic friends. Destiny picks up her pace a little, wanting nothing more than to get away from them.

Austin and his friends decide against that though, cornering her on all sides. Even a few of the popular girls join in, teasing and taunting her with names.

“Tried to off yourself again, did you?” Austin sneers.

“Too bad it didn’t work.” His best friend Alex laughs.

“It’s a shame your mom didn’t just abort you. All our lives would be happier.” Austin’s girlfriend, also the most popular girl in school, Celeste says.

Destiny looks down at her feet, willing the harsh words and pain to leave, but they suffocate her. Austin moves into the circle, right in front of her. He lifts her face up to look at him, a smirk on his lips.

“It’s a shame you let yourself waste away. You could have been pretty, you know? Oh well, you don’t deserve to live.”

He pushes her and she stumbles into the people behind her, who in return shove her back to Austin. Destiny is then met with a punch to the stomach, causing her to double over in pain. She whimpers slightly as Austin laughs and kicks her. Destiny falls onto her hands and knees, breathing heavily and glaring at the ground. She hates that they do this to her.

“Let’s go before we’re late. It isn’t worth losing a good attendance over a freak.” Austin says, leading the group away. He stops real quickly and looks over his shoulder. “Oh, and the next time you try to off yourself, make sure it works.”

Once they’re gone, Destiny hurries back to her car. She gets in and drives to the park, walking slowly and painfully to the swing. She’d rather skip school for the rest of her life than go back. Tears start to flow down her cheeks and she has to wonder.

“Why?” She asks aloud. “Why did you do this to me, God? I’m sorry if I did anything to hurt you, or make you mad. I’m so sorry, but please just stop hurting me.”

She sobs uncontrollable, sitting on the swing in the middle of a deserted park.