The fog started to creep through the floor boards and the cracks. Every morning I look forward to the sweet smell of pond water mixed with the lingering smell of food from the night before.
“Jammie, come downstairs. You need to eat breakfast and make your lunch in time to make the school bus”. from my mother like clockwork at six in the morning.
I gently step out of my warm twin bed and my feet gently touched the cold hard wood floors. I walked over to the closet and got dressed in a sweatshirt and blue jeans. I darted out into the laundry room to find a pair of matching socks. As I dash down the stairs I can smell the bitter coffee that my parents drink and hear the whistling sound of the tea kettle for me.

I walked over to the toaster and toasted four pieces of bread. Thinking to myself, how can I get out of going to school? This happens so often my parents will not even let me drive to school. It is not because I have bad grades it is more of how I am treated by everyone else. Day after day emotional and physical abuse is directed towards me like clockwork. Those thoughts are burned in to my mind since grade school, but I have kept it to myself because who would believe me.

Paper airplanes soar over my head by some person trying to bother me. I am forced to move four times by the time we reach the high school because everyone wants to sit by there friends. The town is just like the school with a bunch of farmers and the only thing people care about is the awful sport of football. Thinking back to when I was younger, my parents made me go because I was too young to be home by myself. I remember the football games were full of loud screaming fans; the smell of popcorn still roams across the stadium, and the stickiness of the stand from spilt drinks felt beneath your shoes. The ringing in your ears would stay with you for a few days at the very least. Not to mention not attending any games does not help the fact of being tormented at school because it gets fifty percent worse after a football game.


But today as I got off the bus nothing happened, no taunts or anything. The people who torment me throughout the day were huddled in a circle focusing on something other than making my life a nightmare. Walking into class nobody pushed me into the lockers and start laughing at me as I fall over. No cruel names or comments that I usually receive. For the first time in my life I was happy to be in school. As I began to browse around the classroom none of those kids were in class. A smile gently moved a crossed my face as I knew that for the first time in my life that I might actually be able to tolerate school.
Just like clockwork my imagination starts to take over in the middle of boring biology notes and everyday I start to dream about how the future might turn out. I would be packing my suitcases and placing them in my car heading where ever I desire to go at that time. I could end up in a big city or another small town where nobody knows who I am. I can finally make my own name for myself. The world will be full of new opportunities that I will have to unravel.



As I darted out of the classroom like normal, I started to notice the tormentors going after a new victim that was just a few days ago directed towards me. They cornered her against the wall and just throwing out anything they could think of to hurt her. I could feel the pain and see the agony in the poor girl’s eyes as she was fighting back tears.
Today was the day no one was going to feel the way they made me feel for so many drawn out years. It took every ounce of courage I possessed to walk up confidently and to attempt to but a stop to what I believe is wrong. All I could think about was that, I can not back down. I started to approach them butterflies fluttered in my stomach warning me to back down and that it was not worth it. I decided to ignore that terrible feeling because what I knew that girl was feeling much worse than I ever did because it was unexpected for her. As I told them to stop they immediately and they started to go after me.
The girls pitch black hair rushed past me with tears rolling down her face and leading a trail to wherever she went. The clicking of high heels from the new ELA teacher flooded the halls. They just kept going on and on worse than ever before. Shockingly the teacher came and dragged them to the principle’s office. In the background by the silver tiny lockers the girl with tears still darting down her face looked straight at me with a thankful smile.