She was an ordinary girl living an ordinary life. So it appeared to everyone on the outside. Klaire Hempfrey was the farthest thing from ordinary. Everyday drew closer to her final breaking point where she would no longer be perceived as a quiet loner, but a mental head case. Everyone thought that her life was perfect, but no one took the time to understand that that fact wasn't true.
Every Monday after school, Klaire would head down to the small creek behind her house. The few trees that lined the bank of the creek provided a coolness and shade that she could not feel in the brightly lit halls of Creek Orchard High. The fresh air along with the babbling water of the creek made this spot, her secret hideout, her favorite place to be.
Away from the stress of school and home, Klaire had time to breathe, time to think. She developed her skills for poetry during these Monday afternoons. Her writing got better. As the weeks turned into months, and the months turned into days, her writing got more dark and desperate. Many times she wrote of an escape out, a way to leave this dark foreboding land and enter the magical kingdom above.
If anyone had cared, they would have seen the signs. Klaire had lost her appetite and all will to be around anyone else. She stopped going to school and locked herself in her room. Her parents were too busy to notice. They were gone all day, and never bothered to talk to her. Klaire became miserable. Trapped. She wrote often for the first few days, but slowly lost the will. Eventually, her parents noticed that she was not at school, and forced her to go.
Her first Monday after returning to school, she headed down to the old creek. The trees had lost their leaves and the slight breeze and cold autumn air turned her cheeks a rosy color. She read through her old poems and complete despair washed over her. It was then that she knew what she had to do. Late that night she crept down the stairs into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher's knife.
She took quick long strides. She took in every second of every moment, every feeling around her. At the same time, she forced herself to walk faster, knowing that the slower she took, the more of a chance she would change her mind. Finally she approached the creek that had kept her company for so many weeks before. She stepped into the water, not caring how the freezing cold was eating away at her. Sharp pain rose through her body, yet it comforted her knowing that it was all about to be over. The pain was about to stop.
She gingerly raised the knife into the air. The heart would be the best place to aim for. She positioned herself above a shallow pool of water and attacked. The icy cold sting of death pricked her heart and she fell to the ground. She lay there immobilized as every last bit of life drained out of her. But, if life were draining out of her, why was the pain not over? Why could she still feel the razor sharpness of the knife, the sting of the freezing cold water, the pain of everything she had endured in her life? Her life was not over. She rolled over cautiously and pulled the knife out of her chest.
As she gazed down in wonderment, the wound healed itself completely. She stood up slowly and walked towards the creek. She felt the blood return to every spot of her body. She felt her blood start to pump. She felt alive.
Immediately, she reached for her knife. She had to try again, but it was nowhere to be found. Angry, she ran for her house, tears streaming down her face. She had done it. The knife had pierced her empty heart, so why wasn't she dead?
The next day she returned to the creek with a rope. She would try again with a different weapon. She stood in the raging waters and pulled as hard as she could. As the last bit of oxygen ran out, she felt herself fall over into the shallow pool. She closed her eyes and willed for her to be taken home, to that kingdom in the sky. Strangely, nothing happened. She opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of a golden sparkle in the pool. Then there was nothing, nothing but her and her undead self. She glanced around and realized that she was in the same pool as the night before. Somehow, it made her invincible.
At home that night, she decided that it would be best just to stay away from the creek at her next attempt. She went with using a knife again. She retrieved the weapon and sat on her bed. She held the knife over her head. No mistakes this time. Just as she was about to drop it down hard into her chest, the phone rang. As usual, no one picked up, so Klaire, just this once, decided to pick it up. A fellow classmate was on the phone.
"Klaire?" he said.
The line was empty.
"Klaire, if you're there, I wanted you to know that I saw what you were trying to do yesterday. And I'm asking you, begging you, as a classmate, as a neighbor, as a friend, please, please don't try again."
Klaire said nothing.
"Can you promise me that?" he asked.
"Yes" Klaire croaked. Tears instantly burst from her eyes and she sobbed so loud that the boy on the other end noticed it.
"Klaire-Klaire, are you ok?" he asked worriedly.
"I'm… I'm… I'm fine. You're just… the first… first… person who… cared."
"Klaire, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that no one has been there for you before. Are you going to be ok?"
"I think… I think I will be now. Thank-you for calling me." Klaire hung up and looked at the knife lying on the ground. The silver gleamed in the light. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to throw the knife out of the window. How could she have been so stupid? Someone actually cared.
Quickly she got her old poetry book out and immediately started writing. She wrote of the hope that had been restored in her life, and the one flicker of light that had been brought back into her life.
As the weeks passed on, Klaire became more and more open. She talked to the boy about everything that she had been feeling. It felt good. Slowly, surely, Klaire became a new person. She made new friends. For once in her life she knew what happiness felt like. Seldom did she ever travel down to her little creek. The desolate surroundings brought the despair back into her life. Instead she started going places with her friends.
Weeks turned into months, and months into years. She was now an ordinary girl living an ordinary life. She was no longer perceived a quiet loner, nor a mental head case, rather an amazingly fun person. Once depressed and introverted, Klaire was now popular and well liked. Everyone thought her life was perfect. After thinking about where she had been a few years earlier, it kind of was.