I Tried To Ask For Help...

• Miranda Yau, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2015

There was a girl. She was happy. She looked happy. Everyone thought she was happy. And she was... Mostly. She had bullies who bullied her mercilessly, friends who turned against her and people who didn't understand. She thought home would be safe... but it wasn't. It never was. No one seemed to care that she got injured in the strangest places. The odd bruise here, the sprained arm there. She said she hurt herself during sports. What they don't know is, she didn't play sports. They told her to tell her parents about the injuries. She didn't need to. They knew. They knew big time. They just didn't care. She dropped major hints. But she was scared. So she wrote sad poems, sad stories, tried to show her feelings through words she didn't understand. She was scared to tell, because if she did, she might not live until tomorrow... But no one wondered. Why did she hide in the library? Why did she get slammed into a wall? Why did she get hit in the head with a dictionary? Why did she flinch at the slightest touch? Why did she wince in pain at the lightest of touches? She always backed down quickly. She was always the first to apologise. She knew how to first aid and knew more about running away then anyone. She tried to tell, but she was scared. So she waited. Waited for a better day, waited for help, waited for someone to ask. But everyone was too scared. Too scared to actually find out the truth, too scared to press matters. She tried to tell, they told her to go to Guidance. They told her to cut it out. They told her it was all a dream and to stop seeking attention. She had the proof. And a voice. But no one listened. So she cut it out. She cut it out, more and more each day. Then she broke a promise that she promised to never break. So she bandaged it up and said she fell. And she did. She fell apart and no one noticed. And if they notice, they didn't care. She was asking for help. She helped others, put on a strong front and laughed. But her smile didn't reach her eyes. Her face said "I'm happy" but her eyes disagreed. She kept asking if people was okay, hoping that one day someone would ask her back but when they did she would lie and say, "I'm okay, thanks for asking. How about you?" Every day she lost a little part of herself. Until one day, all that was left was her bruised and battered heart. And under all the pressure and the pain, it stopped... Everyone knew, they knew. They saw the signs, picked up the clues but each and every one of them said they would help and didn't. Cowardly, scared, frightened. They had known she was falling, but had let her fall, not wanting to push their pride away enough to catch her. They had told themselves that someone else would catch the girl, or that if all else failed, they could catch her later. Now later had been erased, and if someone didn't catch her now, she'd hit the hard ground. But it was too late... they were too late. All that was left of her was no more. All because no one helped.