This book is dedicated to a dear friend who lost her battle with Cancer this year.
I will forever be in awe of your courage and strength.
You were too young, too kind. The world will never be as bright without you in it.
I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.
This one's for you.
~~**~~
"What almost killed you, gave you a reason to live."
~~**~~
|Fallon|
Trigger Warning:
Bullying/Su*cide
|Middle School|
I trudged down the noisy hallway. My shoulders were hunched, head down, trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible.
I reached my locker and sighed in resignation, someone had written 'FREAK' in bold black letters, whoever it was had evidently used a permanent marker because the letters didn't even smudge when I tried to wipe them with the sleeve of my T-shirt.
I quickly grabbed my books and headed to class.
I tried to ignore the hushed whispers and silent giggles directed at me.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Fallon the Freak." Billy Scott's cold voice reverberated through the classroom. Dread settled down in the pit of my stomach. He hopped down from the desk he was sitting on and sauntered towards me. "Hope you liked the little message I left for you on your locker." He taunted.
"Wow Fallon, is that the same outfit you wore yesterday?" Jenny Scott's voice sounded from behind me making my blood run cold. "Bet you didn't even wash it, you filthy pig." She sneered.
Jenny and Billy were siblings, they were both beautiful and popular. Billy was a year older than us but he was in the same grade as me because he'd had to repeat a grade.
As soon as I had transferred here, the two of them had made it their life's purpose to make my life a living hell.
"I washed it, I swear," I said softly. "I can't afford to wear new clothes every day."
"Oh, cry me a river." Jenny pretended to yawn. "I know people like you just want us to pity you so you can get charity from us, in reality, you're just a lazy bitch who doesn't want to do anything herself."
I tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over.
"You look a little dirty Fallon." Billy spoke mockingly, he looked towards his sister "Doesn't she Jenny?"
Jenny nodded enthusiastically.
Panic welled up inside my chest and threatened to suffocate me
"I think we should help her." Billy took a threatening step toward me.
No
Fear had me immobilized.
I tried to move back but in a flash, Billy lunged at me, he held my arms behind my back, completely restraining me. I tried to struggle but his grip tightened to an extent where I knew it would leave bruises.
I watched in horror as Jenny walked towards us, one of her hands slowly unscrewing the cap of her large water bottle.
No
Please no
"Why are you doing this?" I whispered as a lone tear trailed down my cheek.
"Because you're dirty filthy trash and the fact that you pretend like you're the same as us sickens me." Jenny smiled, and without any other warning, she tipped the bottle over my head.
For a moment I felt nothing. It was like I was frozen in time.
I heard the sound of water dripping down on the floor.
I heard everyone laughing.
I stood still as ice-cold water drenched my hair, seeped through the material of my clothes, and chilled my bones. I didn't move even when Billy moved back and released me.
Things can't get any worse, Fallon.
They can't possibly humiliate you any more than this.
That's what I told myself.
But I was wrong.
"Fallon you aren't wearing a bra under your shirt?" Jenny practically screamed.
Every particle inside me seemed to wither and die when she said those words.
My shock had momentarily made me forget that I'd been wearing a white T-shirt.
My foster mom had made it very clear that she wouldn't waste money on buying me undergarments so considering the fact that I was fairly flat-chested and wore baggy clothes I'd spent what little money I had on a couple of panties and a box of pads.
So no, I hadn't been wearing a bra under my shirt.
My now see-through white T-shirt.
I quickly folded my arms in front of my chest.
"Slut." Billy's loud voice echoed. "Slut" He said again as he took a step towards me.
I took a step back.
"Slut!" This time it was someone else who shouted it.
Soon enough the entire class joined in.
There was no stopping the sob that ripped out of my chest.
I ran out of the classroom as fast as I could. My legs carried me down the hall. I let out a shaky breath of relief when I found the door of the supply closet unlocked. I quickly hurried inside and locked the door. My legs finally gave out from beneath me as my body crumbled to the floor. I leaned my head against the door as a fresh wave of tears threatened to spill over. My entire body was trembling.
A loud bang on the door had me jolting in surprise. I slapped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from making any noise.
"Come on freak, we know you're hiding in there." Billy's voice mocked from the other side.
"Come out Fallon, we've already seen everything, what's the point of hiding now?" Jenny laughed.
Her words made bile rise in my throat.
The taunts and mockery went on for some time.
I just sat there silently in the dark clammy supply closet, waiting for them to go away.
I couldn't remember how long I'd waited but when the final bell had rung and the sounds of their voices hadn't been heard for a long while I finally made my way out of my hiding spot. I could tell that it was well past noon by then.
I trudged back to the house, my sneakers were still wet and they made a disgusting squelching sound with every step I took.
~~**~~
I knocked at the front door a couple of times and waited but there wasn't any response. I knocked again, a little more forcefully this time.
The door finally opened and my foster mother's annoyed face greeted me.
"Where on earth were you?!" She demanded. "I got a call from Adelaide's preschool when you didn't pick her up like you were supposed to. I had to go pick her up myself!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest, "And you're supposed to be here in time to make lunch for the kids. What use are you to me when you just come home every day looking like a mess? I need someone who can help me around the house not an extra mouth to feed. I have five kids of my own."
I trained my gaze on my mud-stained sneakers. "I'm sorry Mary." I whispered, "It won't happen again."
"It sure as hell won't." Mary muttered, "Because I'm sending you back to that orphanage."
I could feel the color draining from my face. I felt like someone had taken my heart from my chest and squeezed out whatever little hope I had left.
"No please no," I begged. "I promise I won't let you down again. I'll do everything you said from now on." I pleaded.
Mary sighed. "I'm sorry kid but this arrangement isn't working for me. It would be better for everyone if you went back" To her benefit, she did sound a little regretful.
It wasn't her fault. To her, I was just a burden, broken baggage left at her doorstep that she had no use for.
She didn't know how things were at the orphanage.
How bad they could get.
"Pack your stuff. You can stay here tonight but you leave first thing tomorrow."
~~**~~
I sat at the edge of the concrete railing, peering at the water rushing down below the bridge
"Would it hurt?" I wondered.
Would it hurt worse than it's hurting right now?
I swallowed.
No one is going to miss me.
No one will even remember me when I'm gone.
The thought made me so incredibly sad because a person who had someone who would miss them actually had a reason to not jump.
I so badly wanted to have that reason.
"No offense kid but you look like shit." A male voice suddenly cut through the silence, startling me. I clutched at the railing tightly to make sure I didn't lose my balance.
I turned to head to find a young man standing a few feet away, studying me. He was probably in his late twenties. He had a muscular build with brown hair, he was leaning against the railing and nursing a half-empty beer bottle in one hand. His hair was a mess, his tie loose and his shirt was untucked.
"And you look as fresh as a daisy," I told him wryly.
He chuckled at that.
He was good-looking, but he had bags under his eyes and his lips seemed to be drawn into a permanent frown.
He sighed as he looked ahead at the water. "I had a job interview today." He said almost to himself.
"Didn't go well?" I asked.
"Went great actually, they hired me on the spot." He ran a hand through his hair.
I wanted to ask him why he looked so sad if that was the case but I bit my tongue. It wasn't my place.
He tilted his head to look at me, his eyes were ice blue but there was an inexplicable warmth behind his gaze. "You know, I've learned something today." He paused, "To make something of yourself in this fucked up world you need to become a fucked up person."
An involuntary laugh escaped my lips at the randomness of his words.
"You know how to swim?" His gaze turned back to the water.
"No," I whispered.
For a while, he just stared silently at the rapid current flowing below us. His words were quiet when he spoke,
"Someone once told me that our bodies are naturally designed to float. Our lungs are filled with air so they make our bodies less dense than water, so theoretically we're all made to float. People drown because they panic and let water into their lungs by doing so, not because they sink naturally. In fact, a person can float in the water indefinitely if they're fully relaxed on their back. It's a proven survival strategy."
"Okay." I gave him a skeptical look.
This conversation had taken a weird turn.
He gave me a tiny smile. "I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that sometimes when we feel like we're drowning, maybe instead of panicking it's better to relax and just float."
He gave a slight shrug. "I suppose there's comfort in knowing that no matter how deep we've gone down we will always resurface because we're meant to float, not sink."
I smiled back. "I suppose there is."
My smile widened.
I'm meant to float, not sink.
He was right, the thought did give me comfort.
He gave me a wink before he wordlessly turned to walk away without so much as a goodbye.
"Strange man"
I thought as I watched his retreating back.
Just as his silhouette disappeared from view it occurred to me that at some point during our conversation I had stepped away from the railing.