Afterschool. Nonny POV:
I entered my house and walked past my parents. Ignored me. That was the usual. They don't really care about me. And if they knew about me? They'd never care.
I walked upstairs to my room, locked the door and stood in front of a mirror. I took off my hoodie and examined myself. Scars and bruises covered my arms. No, it wasn't child abuse. Simply self-harm. Depression follows me each and everyday. I can't get rid of it.
For all of my live, I've been practically cast out of the family. Never have I heard a word spoken to me. Never have celebrated my birthday. I'm invisible, and I don't even know why.
Next day. Nonny POV:
I was sitting in Math class and I noticed that Oona wasn't there. Did she really skip class again?
"Hey, Nonny." I heard someone whisper to me. I turned to see Molly, one of the new students.
"What do you need?" I asked.
"Do you have a pencil I can borrow?"
"Yeah. Here you go."
The bell rung. Oona was not here.
I ended becoming acquaintances with the other new students, since we were all in a group project. Oona was supposed to be in it too, but she ended up not arriving. Maybe she's absent.
When we left class, I asked Gil, Goby, Deema, and Molly if they had seen Oona.
"You mean the pregnant student? Isn't she a bad person?" Gil asked.
"Gil! Just because she got pregnant it doesn't mean she's a bad person!" said Deana.
"Um. . . Can I tell you guys something? And you have to keep quiet about it." I asked.
"Of course!" they all said in unison.
I told her about Oona's story and they were all in shock.
"Wow. . . That's really sad. How about we all just skip class and look for her?" said Molly.
"That's a good idea." said Deana.
We checked the bathrooms, library, and every other empty classroom. But then, we heard some noises coming from the janitor's closet. We opened the door and saw Oona. Her mouth, hands, and legs were covered in duct tape. We quickly removed the duct tape and we noticed that she was bleeding from her arms and her legs.
"We need to call an ambulance! No! A hospital! No! A nurse!" Deema cried out.
"No!" Oona cried out. "We can't! I'm completely fine."
"Oona! You are bleeding all over! You aren't fine!" Gil exclaimed.
"NO! I AM NOT GOING TO THE NURSE! IF I SAY I'M FINE, I'M FINE!" Oona screamed.
"Calm down, Oona. Since you don't wanna go to the nurse, where do you wanna go?" Molly asked.
Oona looked at me and said, "Stairwell. Now!"
"Can you walk on your own?" I asked. Yeah, pretty stupid.
"Do you think I can?" Oona said.
I shook my head. So I picked her up bridal style and ran to the stairwell. I'm a very weak person who can hardly carry anyone but surprisingly, she was like a feather!
When we got to the stairwell, I gently put her down so she could rest and I started questioning her.
"What happened?" I asked.
Oona POV:
"I got beaten up. Not too serious. Got slammed into the locker a couple of times, knocked me out once, punched me in the stomach 15 times, twisted my arms really hard, and a bunch of other stuff." I said.
Nonny stared at me as if I were crazy.
"And you don't call that serious?!" He exclaimed.
"Honestly. . . Nope. I mean I got burned, pepper-sprayed, and a bunch of other stuff."
"Does your mom know about this?" Nonny asked.
"Yep. She just abuses me. Held a knife to my throat once."
I tried standing up but I collapsed and felt pain rush throughout my body.
Nonny came closer to me and said, "Take it easy. Let me go get some things. I'll be right back."
He left me and I laid there feeling cold and tired.
When he came back, he had rolls of bandages, some food, a hoodie, baby wipes, and a book.
"How in the world did you get the bandages?" I asked.
He shrugged and said, "Nurse wasn't in the office."
He came closer to me and said, "Here. Remove your sweater."
Oh no. No. . .
"I can do it by myself. Don't worry."
"No." Nonny said firmly. "You are in pain. I'll do it myself. Anyways, you're bleeding quite a lot. It's not life-threatening at all but. . . I don't believe that you're bleeding from the beating."
It's like he could see right through me. Might as well tell him. . .
"Please. . . Don't go and tell anyone. . ." I pleaded as I removed my jacket.
His eyes widened to the sight.
Nonny POV:
Cuts and bruises. I was right. Just like me.
"You're suicidal and. . . So thin!" I exclaimed.
She nodded her head with tears streaming down her face.
"My mom starves me." Oona whimpered.
She was scared and felt alone.
I didn't want to make her feel so alone so I pulled up my sleeves and showed her my story.
"You're just like me."
Ah! I forgot to tell you that this story can be triggering! So sorry! Well, here's my warning!
Warning: Content can be triggering to suicidal, depression, and rape victims.