The Cry of Soundless Words

By: Samantha Moore

Drowning, I scream as loud as my body will let me but my cries are masked by the crashing of the water and my voice remains unheard. This is how I feel every waking hour of every demeaning day. The pain runs deep within my body, cutting my mind like a knife, stab after stab the scars are all I know, are all I feel. The hurt is all I have grown with, and those words so bitterly present with every breath I take. Unwanted, alone, and damaged. No matter how hard I cry or how hard I beg for them to stop, they don't. I always felt like I was doing something wrong, that I wasn't being the right person, so I kept on searching for myself, but the real problem was that I was different, I am different and they dislike me, abuse me and torture me simply because I'm not like everyone else. So day after day I lie on the cold, hard ground beaten and numb. Wounded and abandoned with no one there to help. Nobody seems to understand what it's like, to be hurt and to feel lost, left to find a place in this rotten world. To be kicked while I'm already down, and to have not a sole in sight willing to save me, willing to be there for me, and not what others want me to be.

They never see the pain in my eyes, or hear the crying of my heart from repeatedly being torn apart, and why would they. Why would they care about some washed up guy, especially considering his own father pretends he doesn't exist. I'm just a deformed, loser who was unfortunately placed on this god forsaken earth.

When your body begins to grow cold and your mind is marked with too many scars to count that you begin to walk around as a mere cloud of fog an ending is all you can think of, all you can dream of. I mean what are you supposed to do when you look at your father and all you feel is shame, when you feel you are meaningless and who you are is to blame.

This is when I began to think of suicide, I mean why would I continue living when my own father wishes I would die. Death seems so simple; it's an end to it all, something I have been searching for so long.

I throw my soggy sandwich back into my lunch bag, no longer feeling hungry, as I see a guy, about my age with gelled hair walking into Dalton Academy. He's accompanied by a bigger man, and a woman who appear to be his parents. "Must be another transfer kid… I wonder his reasoning" I mumble to myself.

I transferred here to Dalton Academy high school just a month ago, because my of an incident at my old high school that left me in the hospital and I forced my dad to let me transfer as I told him otherwise I would never go to school again. There were these guys who really pissed me off, and I begged for them to stop but It got to the point where I actually feared for my life, but at this point I question whether it wouldn't have been easier to ask them to just kill me. Anyways, the night I was released from the hospital, I began to search up high schools in the surrounding area, keeping my eye open for the best ones, until I finally came across Dalton Academy, an all-boys private school. It turned out they have a zero tolerance, no-bullying policy that has been strictly enforced, so me and my eagerness to escape the torment insisted on moving here. I made a good decision yet I still feel out of place, and my nights haven't gotten any better.

I still toss and turn, the nightmares vivid and real, I cry and cry, begging for the comfort of arms wrapped so tightly around me, whispering in my ear that everything is going to be okay, yet it's never there.

I walk through my new school, subconsciously going through my day as I never seem to retain anything, only seem to stare beyond reality, I guess hoping for something new, something better in my life. I finally found one outlet where I can express myself, or at least try to…the Glee club.

"So we are welcoming a new member today…Kurt would you mind introducing yourself" Says David, head of the Warblers, Dalton Academy's glee club.

"Um Hi…My name is Kurt Hummel, I'm 16 years old and I transferred from McKinley High," Kurt replies. This was the guy I saw at lunch, I guess he doesn't waste any time getting involved in the school.

"Hi Kurt," we chorus.

Kurt shuffles his way through the room and takes a seat next to me, folding his hands on his lap and staring at them, seemingly shy.

"So, I guess we can get started…today we need to take a look at some possibilities for sectionals but first Kurt, as per warbler tradition you must come on up here and perform a song for all members to hear" continues David.

Kurt's face immediately flushes red; he clears his throat and makes his way up to the front of the room, ponders in his head for a moment and begins to sing "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera with the most amazing voice I have ever heard.

"Cause you are beautiful no matter what they say, Words can't bring you down, oh no," Kurt sings as he stares out the window into the distance. "So don't you bring me down today"

Tears begin to well in my eyes but I quickly blink them away. I would say it's because he is an amazing singer but the truth is I'm jealous. Jealous of people who can get up in front of everyone and sing a song about acceptance of themselves and the fact that they won't let anything get in the way of that. I don't think I have a stich of courage to express in any form acceptance of myself, and ignorance of what others say about me because I hear it all and I let it impact me, guide me. But here Kurt is, standing in front of a room full of complete strangers singing, and with such power.

"And everywhere we go, The sun will always shine, We are beautiful in every single way, Yes, words can't bring us down, oh no, So don't you bring me down today" the room fills with applause and Kurt does a little curtsey. He makes his way back to sit next to me and I just smile at him.

"Wow…B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L…I'm sure you will make it far here Kurt let me tell you," applauds David, "Okay…now it's time we came up with some ideas for sectionals it's just around the corner and the judges are looking for something new, something edgy and we best be on our game" He continues.

"For sure, and David and I were discussing last night and we believe it would be best to get everybody's say for this one, and what we were thinking was to have you all go home whether as pairs or individuals and maybe brainstorm some ideas and come here next week with a little number pulled together, "says Wes, David's co-leader.

So the next few minutes left to spare, we all began chatting, discussing times we were free to get together to brainstorm.

I turn to Kurt and Introduce myself, "Hi…Um my names Blaine Anderson"

"Hi…I think I saw you at lunch…yah you were sitting in the corner of the court yard," Kurt smiles, but I just bow my head feeling stupid, yah, I'm kind of a loner I think of saying.

"So how long have you been here?" He asks

"Oh, only about a month or so, I had some troubles at my old school, you know little things and figured it would just be best you know, try something new." I lie, if only they were small problems

"Well it seems like this place is nice," Kurt says, veering his eyes from mine and starring at the ground.

"So…um if you don't mind me asking, why did you transfer," I ask hoping I didn't hit the wrong spot.

"Well," Kurt looks around to see if anyone is eves dropping, "there was this guy at my old school who would torture me day in and day out, to the point where I couldn't handle it. My dad began to fear me safety and insisted a transfer…" tears were welling in his eyes

"I'm sorry I asked," worried by the tears rolling down his cheeks

"No...It's just hard that's all, but I like being open…at least to some degree because it's too hard to keep things a secret you know"

"Yah…I know," my heart did a flip in my chest, I wish I had his guts, "So, about this whole sectionals thing, do you want to you know get together and maybe work something out" I ask.

"Sure that would be great"

So Kurt and I planned to get together at my house this weekend, and we had spent the rest of this week getting to know each other a little. He was so open to me about everything yet I still bottle my secrets deep in my heart, at least as deep as I can until he would begin discovering them on his own just as ever other person does.

Somehow, even though I've finally found someone to talk to the ache in my heart penetrates my entire body, and I go home and lock myself away, crying till all my tears are shed. Depression, torment, heartache and mistreatment…it never goes away.

Friday night and I walk home only to find the house egged and a paper plastered to the door with one word that seems to always tear my world to pieces…faggot.

I try to run straight to my room but my Dad is at the bottom of the stairs, anger masks his whole face.

"I thought I told you to give up this whole act, to blend the hell in, and look what happens, the house is egged by a bunch of morons all because you don't listen to what I tell you." Dad screams in my face, tears roll down my cheek, my stomach turns, and I wish my body to scream back into his face, but I don't I just stand there shaking from head to toe.

"What the hell is the matter with you," He grabs my shoulders and shakes me, " don't you see how selfish you are acting, how stupid this all is" and with those last few words I break down screaming for him to stop, but he returns to the scream with a smack in my face and a shove to the ground. He kicks my gut hard and whips the back of his hand hitting me straight in the eye.

"Now get the hell up and clean off my god damn walls…."I turn onto my stomach holding myself in a cradle position and cry…."NOW!" He screams and I fumble my way up and to the kitchen, grabbing a damp cloth to wipe away the eggs.

Later that night I sit in my room, my stomach throbs and a bruise already formed on my right eyelid aches as I touch a cold icepack to it. I stare out my window, into the forest behind our house trying to calm myself, but my body still continues to shake, and tears still flow from my eyes. I think about all those things the kids will say to me, all the things they posted on the internet and cry harder knowing it will never go away, scars are permanent and the rumours and the truth are real, no matter how heart wrenching.

I can't do this anymore, depression has sucked all the energy and will power to fight, I only think of the pain, and it's too hard. I've made up my mind… I'm committing suicide.