All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Mangled Girl
I never liked attention. Just a small stare would send me into an anxiety attack. Keeping my head down as I walked down the halls of Lincoln High, I never lifted my head. I am a loner. Sitting alone at lunches and in class, I was the laughing stock. All the awful names they called me remained embedded in my head. Often I arrived home with teary eyes. Thankfully my parents worked until 6:00 P.M., so they never knew about the bullies. Some days were better than others. I unlocked the door to our house and immediately the smell hit my nose. I took a deep whiff and smiled. The smell of freshly baked cookies made my day better. I rushed into the kitchen expecting my mom to be there smiling at me with flour smeared on her cheeks and her white, dirty apron wrapped around her waist. I was greeted by a clean kitchen. Lying on the table was a plate stacked with chocolate chip cookies, I greedily grabbed a few and headed up the stairs to my room. Our house consisted of four rooms which two of belonged to me. I mean, I was an only child, so my parents spoiled me to the ends of the world even when I refused to be. I quietly ate my cookies and sat on my bed. I stared deeply into my dark closet which no light touched. There she stood. Her long, white, grungy dress was tattered around the feet from all the dragging. She gave me a smile which led a chill that started from my fingertips all the way to my toes. Her yellowing teeth protruded out giving her a more scary look. No, I was not afraid. I have been seeing her for the past two years. She is the only friend I have, and I like to call her Amy. Sometimes when I let her, she dissolves into my body, and we become one. Even though we do not physically talk, I know she tries to comfort me in the best way she can, and I appreciate her effort. I wave my hand for her to approach me and she does. She sits down on my bed, but the space where she sat did not compress. It remained as if no one was there. I asked her if she wanted a cookie, but she shook her day. She looked at me in a way to ask me how my day went. I guess the sadness in my face presented itself because she put her hand on my shoulder and looked at me sympathetically. I'm not crazy. I knew Amy was not real. I just did not know whether she was a fragmentation on my imagination or whether she was a spirit trapped here. I really did not care. She was my one and only friend whether she did exist or not. I sighed and looked up. She disappeared. Her disappearing only meant one thing. Someone was home. I went back downstairs and came face to face with my dad.
"How was school today, Rachel?" He asked.
"It was fine," I replied.
"So whats for dinner?" He asked jokingly knowing I could not cook a single dish to save my life. I lightly punched him on the arm.
"What's up with coming home early tonight?" I questioned.
"Well, I decided to spend some quality time with my favorite daughter," he grinned.
"Dad, I'm your only daughter and child," I rolled my eyes and feigned hurt. He laughed out, and headed to their room to change out of his work clothes.
Meanwhile, knowing that my dad would take me out to dinner tonight, I decided to shower. Taking less than 15 minutes, I hurriedly got out and began to walk towards my closet when out of the corner of my eyes, I caught something suspicious. Amy began crawling towards me in an awkward position. I then knew she wasn't the same Amy I had been talking to earlier in the day. I became frightened. I called out her name, and her head snapped towards me. She began advancing towards me in the most strangest way. I whispered for my dad, but I knew he would never be able to hear it. I felt my heart beating and pulsing with each step she took. I tried to scream for my dad, but my voice caught in my throat. She lunged at me with top speed, and I had no time to react. The next thing I knew, she was forcing her soul into my body. I tried to fight her off, but she was too strong. My dad, not knowing of the events happening upstairs, started whistling and singing. I felt a surge of adrenline, but that did not help with anything. I felt helpless. I could not fight anymore, so I gave up. This weird feeling started in my core of my body and traveled outward. I hissed and gasped. My arms and legs turned all 90 degrees then I dropped suddenly. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
"You ready, sport?" My dad asked. I struggled to respond. I tried to speak, but no words came out.
"Let's go have some fun!" My voice replied to my dad. What is happening? That was not me talking.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 1 comment.
13 articles 0 photos 32 comments