Diary of a Wilted Rose | Teen Ink

Diary of a Wilted Rose

May 28, 2009
By BSzabo GOLD, Pinehurst, North Carolina
BSzabo GOLD, Pinehurst, North Carolina
10 articles 16 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us." Pride and Prejudice

“Jane, you’re worthless!” Mother screamed, slamming me against the wall.

Quickly reaching down and grabbing my backpack, I shield myself from another gut-wrenching blow. “…” Forcing the tears back, I glare up at her.
“Not as worthless as you are!” I scream, quickly climbing to my feet and rushing away from my mom.
Once I was out of the house, the tears that lingered in my eyes, fell to the ground.
I jump in my weather-beaten Honda Civic when I hear furniture rattling the floorboards in the house.
“School is more of a refuge than this place is.” I mutter to myself, blaring my music through the speakers and flying down the dirt road.
… … … … … …
I pound my fist against my locker as the bell sounds. Another school year to suffer through; I think with a sigh. I wish I could just leave here, and find someone to stay with… someone who cares. I bite my lip before heading to my biology class.
Pulling my sleeves over my hands, and allowing my bangs to fall in front of my eyes, I glance around the room.
Idiots. They’re all worthless. The same old kids I’ve been with since childhood…no one’s changed.
As my eyes scan over the unforgiving preps and wanna be punks, I see a fresh face.
Who is this? I glance over her, puzzled.
This girl is so scrawny, and meek…it’s like she has no presence. Her hair is so tangled, so dry and frizzy; it’s obvious that she doesn’t care for it. Overall, however, she is very clean, her skin is clear, as is her face; bare of any make-up.
Her appearance reminds me of before. I felt a twinge of sorrow surge through me.
I sure as hell didn’t want to be reminded of that time; the time I was so vulnerable.
This girl…She’s different from me, though. Maybe I’ll be accepted by her, the new girl; the girl who doesn’t know of my horrible past.
My backpack falls to the table; the new girl jumps. “…?!” Her eyes, partly concealed behind a sheet of limp brown hair, innocently dart my way.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I mumble, taking the seat next to her. “My name’s Jane. What about you?” I inquire, staring at her intently.
“Oh, um, my name’s Nicole, but you can call me Nicky.” The girl replied softly, smiling gently.
I smile back. “My middle name is Nicole.” I add with a soft chuckle.
Her smile widens.
I can’t believe how easily I can communicate with her. I can’t help but to feel at peace.
We chat softly all through class. Its amazing; the things you learn about others. She moved here from New York. That’s pretty cool. I’ve always wanted to go there…
… … … … … …
These thoughts; these normal happy thoughts… never have I experienced them so fluently. The feeling of knowing my thoughts and words are taken seriously by another- what an uplifting feeling!

The key must be this girl.
I glance her up and down once. She seems so normal. Nothing too special about her. So then why is it I feel an inclination to befriend her?
It must be her personality. She is naturally easygoing, and someone I can relate to in many ways.
… … … … … …

The class ends, but my confidence does not. I part with the new girl and my happiness carries me through the rest of my day quickly.
The final bell rings, I quickly leave my classroom. Pulling my skullcap over my head and cramming my earbuds into my ears, I blast my music into my eardrums.

I sigh. I hate not wanting to go home. I groaned as I wandered around the halls.
I only exit the school after the usual teachers kick me out. I cringe as I walk out into the crowd of car riders.
I hate people. I can’t stand it when they stare. Its like they only see you for your faults, and talk about them...they whisper their horrible gossips, even though you can hear them.
Then, I spot her once more. Feeling instantly more secure at a kind, familiar face, I quickly approach her.

“Nicky!” I call out, waving slightly as I walked over to the girl. She was leaning against the wall with her arms folded across her chest, hugging her torso.

She smiles and gives me a small wave. “Hi, Jane.” She responds once I approach her.

I rip my earbuds from my ears and smile back. “So you’re a car rider?” I inquire, casually leaning against the wall as well.

“Yeah,” she began with a small nod,”You too?” she asked, titling her head.

“Nope. I drive.” I mumble with a slight smile. “I just don’t like to go home right after school, so I usually hang around until I get kicked out.” I added with a soft chuckle.
“Oh, I see. That’s cool.” Nicky replied, soon turning her attention back to the row of cars.

Our conversation continued, lingering around topics of the school and her first day here. Then, her ride arrived.

“You wanna meet my mom?” Nicky asked, tiling her head as he grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder.

I stiffened. Her mother?
“Sure…” I reply with a small nod. “Its on the way to the parking lot anyway.” I add with a reassuring smile. I then follow her to her car.

The window of the Nissan Altima slowly slid down. Nicky bent down, her face in the window.

“Mom, this is Jane. She’s in my biology class.” Nicky spoke a bit louder than usual, her smile a bit brighter.

Her mother slowly glanced my way after flashing a smile Nicky’s way. Her lips slowly fell as her eyes hit mine.
“Hello.” She mumbled, her lips curling back into a slight sneer.
Oh no, does she hate me already? My stomach churned and my head began to spin. What have I done, that made her react that way? I thought grimly.
“Hi.” I respond quickly. “It’s nice to meet you.” I added.

Her mother only nodded in response.

Once again, I cringed.

Nicky climbed into the car and flashed me a departing smile. “See you tomorrow, Jane.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” I mumbled with a half-hearted smile.

The car quickly pulled away. I was left alone again.

Even though the car isn’t far from here, I crammed my earbuds back into my ears and blasted the deafening music though my temples. I hugged my torso tightly as I walked around the back of the school, taking the longest trail to the car.

Why is it that I can’t seem to break these uncomfortable feelings? The quizzical looks only force me deeper into this depression.
I sighed once I was out of the eyes of the public.

I quickly took a pack of stolen cigarettes from my bag, and lit the death stick. Inhaling the toxic fumes, I felt my worries fade away.
Forget the depression for now. Its Monday, I still have to get through this week…and not to mention two more years of this place…

I heard shuffling feet rounding the corner. Quickly tossing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with my foot, I run around the opposite corner.

The parking lot was now in my line of sight. Sighing, I walk to my car. “…can’t even enjoy a smoke…” I grumbled.
… … … … … …

Its hard to believe that its already Thursday…I was hoping I would have more time to recuperate…

I feel my eyes glancing ahead, but I see the events of last Thursday as they are projected vividly across my memory.


I vaguely heard my name being called. Who is it? Nicky? I glance up to see the girl standing next to me.

“Hey, since tomorrow is Friday, you want to hang out?” she asked, pulling out her phone to check out the time.

“O-oh. Friday, hm? Sounds good to me.” I replied with a smile. “Where did you want to hang out?”

“Well, we could go to my house, or your house…either one is fine with me.” She mumbled with a quick smile.

My house? I don’t think so. I don’t need my new friend seeing what a horrible family I have…I don’t want them to chase anyone else away…
“You think your house would be all right?” I asked, tilting my head casually.

“My house? Sure. My mom won’t be in until dinnertime, so we can just hang out until she gets home.” Nicky replied with a nod.

Until her mom gets home. I knew it. That woman hates me.
“All right, sounds good to me.” I add with a conformational nod.

“By the way, do you have a phone?” Nicky asked, appearing a bit apprehensive as she held her phone up.

“Oh, yeah, I do.” I mumbled, pulling out my ancient, pretty much good for nothing, cell phone.

After exchanging numbers, and finalizing our plans for Friday, we left class.
… … … … … …
The rest of my day ticked away slowly.
I can’t wait until Friday. I hope my ‘mother’ lets me go... No, I don’t care if she says yes or not. I believe not mentioning this to her would be wise.

The last bell rang. I pull my skullcap over my head, get out my earbuds, and head directly for my car.
My eyes gazing straight ahead, I ignore anyone in my peripheral vision, only seeing the car that seemed a million miles away.
Throwing my things in the seat, tossing my ipod and earbuds against the window, I quickly lit a cigarette, ignoring the stares.
Turing up the stereo, I open the windows and throw the car in drive. All I heard was the screeching of the tires, and the drowning screams of the voices on my CD.
Today is Thursday. John will be home tonight…and he’ll be drunk as hell. I cringe. My gaze ahead, but far away from the road.
I quickly turn onto the familiar dirt road, my stomach tying in knots with every foot I get closer.
Finally, the house is in view.
Coming to a screeching halt, I park in my spot, under my old oak tree. Clutching my bag for dear life, I lock the car and walk toward the house.
His truck isn’t here yet. Thank God! Hopefully he won’t be home until after I’ve gone to sleep.
I sighed. Though, no matter how many times I wish that would happen, it never seems to go my way.
My phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket. I set my things down on the grass and sit on the old wooden stairs. It’s a text from Nicky. I smile.
‘Hey, what’s up? How r u doing?’ It read.
My fingers graze the keys before I respond quickly. ‘N2M just got bck. U?’
Her reply came a moment later. ‘Just asked my mom about Friday, she said ok. :)’
I sighed with relief. No Friday night drunk fest. I chuckled before moving to respond. ‘O that’s good. :P’
I pushed the phone back into my pocket. I then grabbed my things and headed inside the house.
As I entered the house, I saw my stepfather’s law books scattered everywhere.
He’s either REALLY excited about a case…or just drunk already..
I rolled my eyes at the mess before going to my room. I tossed my bags on my bed before wandering into the kitchen.

While making a snack, I felt my phone vibrate, but assumed it was Nicky and ignored it for the moment.
After grabbing a snack, I tumbled onto the sofa and turned the television on.
The phone vibrated once more. Two texts?!
My heart skipped a beat.
I sighed deeply to find that Nicky’s text had accidentally sent twice. Thank God, it wasn’t him.
‘Yeah. =] what did ur mom say?’ Read her text.
After wording carefully the text in my head, I responded. ‘shes not home yet, but she’ll prob say yes.’
I closed my phone and dropped it onto the sofa next to me.
Staring at the people as they move across the small screen, I roll my eyes. The perfect little housewife brings her husband his dinner, an obnoxious smile spread across her face.
Stupid. No one is like that, not anymore! No one cares!
Quickly hitting the power button on the remote, I throw it down before sitting up.
Ignoring my snack, I grab my phone and walk to my room, twitching with anger.
I’ve got to calm down. Just because my family sucks, doesn’t mean everyone’s does…right?
I sigh. The phone vibrates once more. New text.
‘well that’s good. :] I’m so excited!’
Yeah, so am I. I won’t be around when my stupid step-father goes on his weekly binge drinking frenzy.
‘Ikr? Same here!’ I reply.
Sitting down at my desk, I take out my poetry journal and being to write. At least I can always fall back to my ‘safe’ outlet. I think with a smile.
My pen moves quickly across the page, as my mind spits out lines.
This song,
It calls to us all.
The soft melodies,
Tinged with sadness…
Its gentle nature,
Is tainted with fear.
This song,
Is the song the bird sings.
The bird trapped;
Held hostage;
This lonely bird;
When you glance toward it,
You don’t love it.
He knows.
You kill him,
With your negligence.
His song has ended.
What have you done?

My phone rattles on the desk. That’s not a text…

My heart stops. It’s John.

I snatch the phone from my table, clutching my stomach as I flip it open, and apprehensively bring it to my ear.

“Hello?” I inquire, my lips quivering as I speak.

“Where are you?” came the deep voice of my stepfather, his words slurred together.

Oh God, he is already drunk. “I’m at home…” I mumble, shivering.

“Get outside, we’re going somewhere, I’ll be there in a minute.” Click. The line went dead. He hung up.

Tears slowly slid from my eyes. I didn’t care to wipe them away, not this time. He must be REALLY mad… we don’t usually go out on Thursdays…

I quickly grab my shoulder bag from the floor and shove my poetry notebook inside. Strangling the straps with my tight grip, I unwillingly wander over to the front door.

I hear an engine revving close by.

Crap, he is here!

I dash out the front door, stumbling through the doorframe and down the steps.

As I slam the door behind me, my step-dad’s truck quickly pulls into the driveway.

Leaving the engine running, John pushes the driver’s door open and stumbles from the truck, beer can in hand.

“Jane…” He grumbled, my name mutilated by the debilitating substance present in his voice. “Get in the truck.” He demanded, flinging his arm toward the truck, beer sloshing around in the can, water falling from the spout and on to the ground below.

Shivers erupting from my epicenter, I rush toward the truck, reaching out unsteadily for the door handle.

“No! You can’t sit in the front! Get in the bed, NOW!’ John screamed, fuming with anger so great, his face began to turn purple.

Quickly peering into the truck through the window, I caught a glimpse of a large black bag. OHMYGOD.

Shoving me away from the truck, I fell to the ground. All the oxygen escaping me.

John suddenly gave me a blow to the side.

I coughed; blood spewed from past my parted lips.

“Get up!” He yelled, grabbing me by the collar and lifting my body off the ground.

I felt myself up TOO high in the air. Before I realized what was happening, I was thrown into the bed of the truck, my head quickly smashing against the cool metal.

The air reeked of a foul stench. The scent of salty, rust-tinted crimson, and disaster, swirled around me, choking me.

Slowly, I reached up and touched my head.

The thick, warm liquid was dripping down my cheeks.

The truck suddenly shifted into reverse. It flew backwards, almost missing the road completely as it spun around one hundred and eighty degrees.

Once the truck straightened on the road, I reached my hand out slowly stabilize myself.

My fingers slowly wrapped around something…but nothing familiar. I slowly glance up; it was a gun.

Oh my god. He really has gone crazy hasn’t he?! A gun?! Why the hell…!?
A few moments later, the truck came to a screeching halt, and I was thrown against one of the walls of the truck, head first.
The driver’s side door of the truck burst open once more.
My heart was palpitating faster than it ever has before. It felt as though it would jump out of my chest. My chest heaved slowly as I clamped my eyes shut.
The sound of his footsteps were enough to send me into cardiac arrest…but once I heard the other door open, I released my breath.
I heard a loud ‘thump,’ and the rustling of plastic. The black bag? I wonder, slowly dragging myself toward the edge of the truck.
Peering over the edge slowly, I see John dragging the bag toward a body of water, looks like the lake behind our house.
Suddenly, I see an arm slide from the bag.
A woman’s arm, no doubt. The nails are French manicured, and there is a wedding ring on her…finger…
I gasp softly.
It’s mother!
My entire body began to convulse. It can’t be mother... she was just in the kitchen this morning!
Fear rippled through me as if someone had thrown a rock into my life’s pond.
I’ve got to do something…quickly.
Remembering that I had my journal, I quickly took it from my bag.
Tears slipping from my eyes, I took out my pen and began to write a message.
If you are reading this, I am dead.
John killed me
My mother too.
By the looks of it,
He’ll dump our bodies into the lake behind the house.
Put him where he belongs,
Behind bars.

Just then, I heard I twig snap. Quickly glancing up, I see John looming over me. His eyes glowing with irritation and insanity.

Allowing me no time to react, John grabs me by the hair and pulls my body over the side of the truck. I crash to the ground.

My vision gradually blurring, I see John’s large frame towering over me, the black bag that once held my mother’s body, in his hands.

In that instant, John pulled the bag over my head and pressed it against my face harshly.

The scent of my mother’s shampoo, cigarettes, and blood smother me.

At this point, my tears wouldn’t fall, no matter how afraid I was.

I’m going to die…I never imagined I would go like this…

I hear my feral step-father rummage around in the bed of his truck. He was loading the gun.

I clamped my eyes tightly once more. I had no fear, not now. It was too late for me.

“It’ll be over quick, kid.” John murmured as he put the gun to my head.

“John…you killed the bird…” I muttered under my breath.

The gun sounds, traveling through the air and ringing loudly in my ears.
The bullet whistles through the air before it makes contact with my head.
The force of the gun pushes my body against the truck. I feel no pain, my body has gone numb.
A sickening crack echoes as I feel the bullet penetrate my skull…
… … … … … …

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This article has 1 comment.

on Jun. 21 2009 at 5:32 pm
LoveLikeWoe DIAMOND, LeSueur, MN, Minnesota
54 articles 2 photos 748 comments

Favorite Quote:
Whoever laughs first has the sickest mind.

This story is eye grabbing. Good job. It kinda scared me though...