Life seems so unbareable the day the world comes crashing down around you. You feel a weight on your chest as if someone is reaching in and ripping your bloody beating heart out. The weight speaks to you, saying "End it all. End all the misery." Some people listen to it and bring the razor to their skin. I was one of them at a point in my life.
When watching the movies on how one little thing triggers everything the character has out of proportion, I would imagine myself with those circumstances and think about how I would just kill myself. The day my world came tumbling down, I tried to rebuild it and make it better, like in the movies. I didn't know that it could get any worse.
That day was like any other day. I came home from school and did my homework, and my parents were fighting. I would try to block out their bickering as I tried to concentrate. When that was done, I'd slip into the living room and watch the television with my brother. The screaming match continued and I just turned the volume up louder. I didn't process my dad's anger as he stormed in, grabbed the remote from me, turned the T.V. off, and threw the remote into the wall, shattering it. My mom's yelling became louder and then it all stopped. My brother and I sat there, bewildered that our father, the man who raised and loved us, would make us pay for what someone else did.
I could hear my mother sobbing in the kitchen and my dad rummaging in their room. I didn't know what was going on. I stared at the empty screen as my dad stormed past with two large suit cases in his hands, and going outside. I ran outside to say good-bye, thinking he was going on a buisness trip. He threw his bags in his backseat and slammed the door. I stood there. He noticed me, and stopped. He walked up calmly and knelt down to my height.
"Sweety, I'm going away and I might not come back. I love you, but you can't come with," he said, trying to sugar-coat it. I began processing this and decided that he was abandoning us. He didn't want us anymore. He was a liar and didn't love me anymore.
I stood there, watching him speed down the road and turn. I felt the weight on my chest telling me that I would never be able to fix this and my life was now a lost cause. I went inside, determined to make things as good as possible, and maybe get my fairy tale ending. I couldn't have ever been more wrong.
The years passed and my father didn't even fight for custody for me and my brother and he didn't even want to see us anymore. I was right when I said he didn't love us anymore. After their divorce, my father was remarried and his wife forbid us to come. I didn't want to go. I hated my dad and his new slut wife. I hated them for what they did to my mother, who I knew loved us. She did everything to make me and my brother happy. She wouldn't cry in front of us, but sometimes, she couldn't help but shed a few tears.
Things just kept getting worse. When I turned fourteen, my mother bought me a nice purse and I loved it. She wanted me to grow up to be a very poised lady. Unfortunatly, the purse was a little to expensive and she couldn't pay rent. From the events that fallowed, I knew that she regretted buying me that purse. It all went down hill.
We were evicted. She couldn't find an apartment in the area that we could afford. We had to move. By the time I was fifteen I was in a new city that wasn't exactly clean. There were criminals and drug dealers all over our new neighborhood, but she tried to ignore the fact since she was just happy to have a roof over our heads. My new school was just down the street, and I felt somewhat safe.
The school was disgusting. There was grafitti on most of the walls, and you could easily see someone selling, buying, or doing drugs in the hall. Some people would even have sex out in the open. I couldn't find anyone who would talk to me. I was alone and depressed. My mother saw this and began looking for a cleaner neighborhood with a better school, but she was having trouble. One day, I took my purse, thinking that it would attract some interest in some people and make friends. It was the worst decision of my life.
I wasn't bothered when walking to school, but people took interest in my purse. They didn't talk to me, but they snickered to each other and stared. I kept my eyes down to the floor. I went home, feeling worse than I ever did when someone ran into me, knocking me into an alley. I gasped in surprise, but then they pushed me against the wall. Pulling at my purse. I held onto it tightly, screaming.
"Shut up!" A huskey voice yelled. I kept screaming and they pulled a knife to my throat. "I said, shut up!" I stopped screaming and began crying in fear.
My body went limp, and they tugged the purse out of my hands. The knife was still at my throat, and I was afraid. I was trembling as they began to pull at my clothes. They unbuttoned my pants and began to pull them down with my underware. He took his knife from my throat and began cutting my shirt open, barley missing my chest. My eyes poured hot, salty tears. He was going to rape me.
"Hey! What are you doing!?" Another male voice yelled from the street.
My almost rapist ran away and I collapsed to the ground, crying and screaming. I couldn't move except for my trembling body even though I wanted to pull my pants up and hold together my shirt. My savior approached.
"Are you okay?" He asked. He took his coat off and put it around me. "Come on. I'll help you. Where do you live?"
I couldn't stop crying. He pulled me up and I could only cry. He began pulling my pants up for me and closing his coat around me. He put an arm around my back to support me and began walking me out into the street. I didn't know what to do, so I just walked with him. He took me into a building and up some stairs. He unlocked a door and brought me into his appartment. He set me down in a chair which was in his kitchen. He went to his fridge and pulled out two sodas and put them on the table.
"Are you okay?" He asked. I just nodded, trying to stop crying. "What's your name?" He asked. I couldn't find my voice to answer. "Mine's Adrian Jones."
"Maxine Wincott," I managed to choke out.
"Where do you live?"
"Down the street." My choking became mummbling.
"I'll take you home, but you need to learn some street smarts."
"Street smarts?"
"Like self-defence and never take anything that looks expensive."
"Oh."
"I can teach you self-defence. Would you like that?" I nodded. I could hear his door open and close. "Hey, Mom," Adrian called out.
"Hey, honey, how was school?" The woman said before she walked in. She saw my tear stained cheeks sitting in her kitchen with my clothes ripped and barley on. She paused.
"She was just mugged and raped. I found her," Adrian explained, knowing what his mother was thinking. I stared down. I couldn't find my voice to the objection of rape.
"We should call the police. Do you know what he looked like? What was he wearing?" Adrian's mother tried to be helpful.
I couldn't really remember since my eyes were clouded with water. I thought hard.
"Brown eyes, short brown hair. He had a soul patch. I didn't see what he was wearing," I tried to remember. She grabbed the phone and began calling 911. Adrian stared at me from across the table with a worried expression. When the call was done, Adrian's mother stood there.
"We should take you home," She said.
"I'll take her home," Adrian said thoughtfully. I stood up on my own and buttoned and fixed my pants. I found my strength. I tried to tie my shirt together, but it exposed my bare stomach, so I just held it closed with my hands.
We walked out of his building and he waited for me to go in the right direction. Adrian walked by my side as I went down the street. We were silent and I didn't like it. It seemed like he knew this.
"How old are you?" He asked.
"Fifteen. You?"
"I just turned seventeen. I guess you havn't lived her long, right?"
"Yeah. We just moved in while ago."
"You need some fighting skills."
"I know."
"I could teach you."
"That sounds cool." My voice was a monotone.
"Well, just wait for me after school and we'll go to my place and I'll teach you to fight."
"Okay. Thanks." I stopped infront of my building.
"No problem. We'll start tomorrow. Is that okay?"
"Yeah. I better go. Bye." I walked up the stairs.
"See ya later, Max." Adrian said as I walked inside. I smiled to myself at the nick-name he gave me.
I went to my empty apartment and fell onto the couch. I sighed. Adrain was perfection. His pitch black hair made his emereld eyes glisten. He was pale, but I could tell he was muscular. I couldn't have ever met a nicer guy in that shit-hole of a city. I had a crush on him, but I thought "What would he want with me?" I was younger than him and not at all pretty. I was normal and not beautiful. My long brown hair was matted and ugly and my eyes were a dark shade of brown. My body was slender, not muscular, but I had a large chest. I was anything but pretty. A guy like Adrian would want a beautiful girl that stood out. Not me.
I met with him the next day and I opened up a little more. In a few weeks, we knew each other's life story. His was similar to mine except that his mom left with him and his father tried to win custodty. He taught me to fight and he would tell me I had a strong punch. Over time, I became more muscular. I became tired with my look and cut my hair short. It was very pixie-like. When Adrian saw me the next day, he was very surprised.
"It looks great!" He would tell me with a large smile plastered to my face.
We continued my fighting lessons, and I was progressing. One day, he wanted to fight me to see how I was doing. I put up a good fight, but he pinned me to the ground. I struggled under his weight, but it was no good. I stopped and looked at him, trying to be angry. I could feel my face heating up realized how close he was and how he was on top of me. Adrian looked at me, and leaned his face down. His lips brushed mine, and I was shocked. He leaned down more and pressed his lips to mine. He held the kiss, waiting for me to respond, but I was frozen. I came around and kissed him back. He broke away and smiled. He kept kissing me while I was pinned under him. That's when I realized that I loved him.
After that, we would spend at least five minutes to make-out before his mom came home. I was his girlfriend, and I was finally able to make friends of my own. Eventually, I was able to defend myself, but no one wanted to mess with me because of Adrian. He made my Hell on Earth bareable. I was loving life and it was all turning into my fairy tale ending. The number one rule about life is to never make plans for the distant future.
That day was like any other day. Adrian was walking me home from our "lesson." There were cars driving past like always, but then a gun was going off. Adrian did what a hero would do. He grabbed me and used himself as a human shield. He tried to get us down on the ground, but he screamed in pain and fell on me. My eyes widened, realizing what happend. I screamed.
"Somebody! Call the abulance! Help! Help!" I was screaming and crying. I put him on his stomach as I tried to blick the bleeding wound in his back. My tears were pouring down my face.
"Maxine..." Adrian was trying to talk.
"Don't talk. You'll be alright."
"I love you. I wanted you to know in case-"
"Don't talk like that." I could hear the sirens getting closer.
"Tell me you love me."
"I love you. Don't die." My eyes were pouring.
The ambulance arrived and started attending the wound. They took him away on the stretcher and I went with him. I held his hand tightly, not wanting to let go. He clung to me and smiled. He looked at me and I couldn't help but cry.
At the hospital, I held on to him till they took him into the operation room. I waited. His mother ran in and came up to me.
"What happend!?" She was asking frantically. Scard.
"There was a drive-by and he was shot by a stray bullet." I began sobbing. She slumped into the chair next to me. She grabbed my hand, and we waited. The doctor came in.
"I'm sorry. We did all we could. The bullet pierced his spinal cord and we could not repare the damage. He also bled to much. He didn't make it."
His mother burst into tears and my eyes began leaking, too. The love of my life was gone and the weight on my chest was back. I was compleatly empty. I found myself listening to the voices.
"He was going to ask you to marry him once you graduated," She said out of nowhere. I was listening to the voice even more.
I went home. My mom and brother didn't talk to me, knowing how much pain I was in. I went to the bathroom and found a razor. I began slicing at my skin watching the blood pour. I could feel my eyes blurring. The only thing I could think about was Adrian and being with him. I just wanted him. I waited for myself to drift into oblivion.
I woke up in a hospital and my mom was sleeping in the chair. I had a room with myself and all the white hurt my eyes. The light was on and the door closed. I could see people walking in the halls. I began crying. I wasn't with Adrian.
"Noooo! No! Why!" I screamed. My mother woke up and came to my side.
"Just calm down," She told me.
"Why didn't you let me die?" I asked, crying. She slumpped down in her chair, shocked in my determination to end my miserable life.
After I got out, I started seeing my first phycaitrist. I didn't want to be there, and I wouldn't talk to him. He tried to make me talk, but I wouldn't. Eventually, my mom stopped making me go. That started my road to Armageddon. I became self-destructive.
After a while, I started going back to school. Adrian's best friend tried to comfort me, but I didn't want to remember Adrian anymore. It hurt to much. His friend would hug me, trying to make it better, but it didn't help. It made me angry. It annoyed me so much. It finally had enough. He hugged me, and it would be his last time to attempt it.
"Get off me!" I yelled as I pushed him off me.
"Come on, Maxine. You just need someone," He said, approaching me. I punched him in the face and he fell to the ground. Everyone stared at me.
From then on, people would either stay away from me or try to fight me, but I would always beat them up. I began smoking. I was doing anything to end my life quicker. Cocain, weed, alchahol. I did it all. My mom made me go to another phycaitrist and I talked a little more than I did before. Adrian's friend was right. I just needed someone to talk to, but I wasn't sure who to tell.
I was spending my money on drugs just to stop myself from shaking. My trembling reminded me of the day I met Adrian and the day he died. I was going broke. I began selling stuff to make money and then I got a job. It wasn't exactly great being a hooker, but I could afford my drugs. I bought more protection since I knew my occupation wasn't exactly safe. I liked brass knuckles. I bought a few daggers and pocket knives. I knew I was well protected. I could use self-defence as an excuse if I killed one of my dealers, clients, or pimp. I wasn't ready for what happend.
I was walking home, and someone attacked me. It wasn't a dealer or one of my cliants. I guessed that it was a hired hitman. I couldn't get my knife out and I struggled with my attacker. I slammed him against the wall and pulled out my knife. I stabbed him. I pushed the knife into his body a lot. Then it went terribly wrong. Someone came to help me. I was scard and I had a large adrenaline rush. I stabbed the person and I got the spot right where their heart was. I didn't know who it was, but they died. I had two dead bodies around me and no witnesses to prove that it was self-defence.
The trial approached and I was found guilty for first degree murder. I was sentenced to fourty years in prison. I'm still waiting for parole. I became anxious. I hate prison. It's like being stuck in my highschool again before I met Adrian. I can be found crying in my cell and screaming. They also caught me punching the walls and stuff like that. That's when they signed me up for another phycaitriest.
So, what do you think, Doctor?