Julee

"Stop it." Julee cried, unable to stop her tears from flowing, "Please, stop." She covered her ears with her cold, yet sweaty palms. "Go away, please!" She couldn't stop the laughing and pointing no matter how much she pleaded. Make them go away, daddy. She prayed, hoping that some sort of miracle would happen and her daddy would show up to send these bullies away.

        But nothing happened. Daddy wasn't there.

        Daddy wasn't alive anymore.

        "Ha-ha! Look at her! Her face is red!"

        "In addition to those pimples?"

        "Gross! What a loser!" Julee was sobbing by then, and they used that situation against her.

        "Is she crying?"

        "What a cry baby."

        "Fat pimple red-faced cry baby!" The school bell went off, and her classmates finally left her alone, not before snickering and giggling out of the room. The teacher stared at her for a couple of seconds before stepping out of the classroom, leaving Julee to weep on her own. She stayed in the same position for awhile before wiping tears off her face with her clothes and deserting the classroom.

        She stood outside her door, motionless, for about five minutes before slowly unlocking the door. Keeping her head down to avoid contact, she got into her room and closed the door, which let out a tiny squeak from the rusty door screws.

        She settled down on her bed and tried to sleep, but the words said to her earlier that day clouded her mind. Am I really that unlikable? Why does everyone hate me?

        Until the bullying started, she never knew how much words could hurt, how they cause more pain than when her mom hits her, how the pain lasted longer, seemingly forever.

        She gave up trying to sleep and sat up. She stared at her wrists and thought of cutting herself again, but her mom took away every single thing she owned and threw them away. She thumped her head onto her pillow, and thought about her dad. If only he was still alive. If only daddy looked out for that truck while buying her birthday cake. If only I'm prettier, I won't be this useless.

        She gave in and started crying for what felt like forever, not even planning to stop until she heard the faint voice of her mother's screams.  “Julee!  Get over here!” she could tell her mother was mad as she walked to the living room.

          Julee stood by the couch where her mom sat. She stared at the couch her dad picked out, trying hard not to dwell upon the fact that it was the only thing left in memory of her dad.

          "You called me, mom?"

          "Yeah, why didn't you clean the-" Julee's mom stared at her swollen eyes "were you crying?" Julee looked away in an attempt to hide her face, which only gave certainty to her mom's suspicion. In an instant, Julee's mom stood up and flew her hand across her face. "Cry! All you do is cry! You killed your father and all you do is cry? I swear, if I had a son, things would be so much better."

          "I'm sorry..." Julee whimpered "Sorry..."

          "As if saying sorry helps? How useless can you be? Sorry doesn't bring back my husband you killed! Why won't you just die!" Julee watched as her mother stormed into her room and slammed the door.

          Julee sat down on the couch and touched her tingling warm cheek, too worn out to cry. Mother is right. I am useless, I should just die. Why not be free from all these?

        She wandered around the kitchen and found a bottle of sleeping pills on the second cabinet above the sink. Smiling for the first time in months, she strolled back into her room.

        "Daddy, I'm coming"