Thursday, June 23, 2005

   Heh
The rest of what i've done in my story (the first part is in the archives)
Don and Charissa were asking questions about each other, just for fun and to learn more about each other. Soon, it came to their farther-away past.
“Why did you join the field?” Don asked
Charissa took a deep breath and said, “People say that field agents do it because of a hidden past, something that makes them join stuff like this. I agree. I was always a smart kid. I got straight A’s, did all of my homework, and I was the most popular girl in school. However, when I was 11 and entered middle school, everything changed. It was as if all my friends had learned something I hadn’t. I grew up in a bad neighborhood, so they had changed. Their grades dropped, and the next time I saw them, they were smoking marijuana. I finally said to them, ‘What in the world are you freaking doing?! You’re messing up yourselves! Remember, how in 3rd grade, we’d fantasize about having great jobs and lives, and being rich? How are you gonna do that if you’re wasting yourself!!!!’ I didn’t like how they had changed. And I couldn’t see how they could smoke marijuana. Just standing around that stuff made me feel like I was gonna puke. My friends just looked at me like I was stupid. One of them, Catrina, said, ‘Get a life girl! Either you hang with us and be like us, or go off on your own as a loner!’ I just stared at them, seeing my best friend Marcie hand me some marijuana. When I refused, she slapped me in the face and kicked me out of her club. Somehow, news about it spread all around school, and everybody saw me as a weak, stupid little girl who was an outcast. They’d push me down the stairs when I walked through the school, steal my lunch or lunch money, and leave if I sat down at their table. I felt betrayed, but I wasn’t gonna waste my life. However, things got worse. They began to bully me, beating me up cuz I was the goody goody know it all that always got 100% on everything, cuz I wasn’t like them. It made me cry everyday at some point. It was so intimidating. When I told my father (my mother had died when I was 5), he didn’t believe me that it was so bad and said that I was a stupid wimp. He wasn’t a good father. But one day, after everybody had bullied me so much, I went to the office. I told the principal about my friends smoking marijuana. He had them expelled from the district. However, after the school found out, a group of other kids beat me up really badly. They took all my money too, and left me out near the back of the school to die. Thankfully, my next period teacher had noticed I wasn’t there even though I had been in all of my other classes. He soon found me. I almost died, and all my ribs were broken, my left arm and right leg broken. I had to stay in the hospital for months. I couldn’t go to school for the rest of the year, but when I could for 8th grade, I was too scared. My father, seeing how badly I had been bullied, agreed to move to another Anaheim, where I’d be safe. However, I never emotionally healed from that year. I still have scars from it, and sometimes I have nightmares. So that’s why. I joined the SWAT because of my past. It’s kinda hard to explain, but that’s just the way it is,”
Don hugged me and whispered, “I’m so sorry…”
I said, “I know,” and hugged him back.
As Don fell asleep, I thought back to that last time I had gotten beat up:
I walked to my next class, Math. Suddenly, I saw Josh, Maria, Theresa, and Rob gang up on me. I backed up, slowly, to the back of the school. One of them suddenly kicked me, hard, in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I fell backwards into the ground, and Josh picked me up and began to punch me in the face. The rest was all a blur as they kicked and punched me. I didn’t know why, but I counted how many times. Maybe just to keep myself thinking straight. I counted to 100 and saw through blurred, bloody eyes, that they were walking away. I tried to get up, but once I got to my knees, my body shook and I fell. I began to cough up some blood, and my eyes blurring even more, I passed out. The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital, in pain…
But that wasn’t it…
My father began to get worse. He started drinking, coming home late at night more drunk than I could ever imagine. He also started to smoke drugs. After he would come home, he would order me around until I collapsed from weakness. Then he would beat me with a whip and forced me back up. He made me quit school, even though it was the only thing I had left. I began to get very depressed, and it only worsened by the day. Then, one day, I ran away and took a train back to L.A. Then, I went to my old school and walked right up to the stage, where there were many people. Nobody knew it, but I had stolen my father’s gun and placed it into a fanny pack I had. Right then and there, I pulled it out, causing everybody around me to scream in fear. I brought it up to my head, and was about to pull the trigger, when I heard Marcie, who was my ex-best friend at that time, yell, “NO!!! CHARISSA!!!!!!!!!” I stared at her as ran up to me and said, “Please, please, just don’t do that! I’ve changed, but if you do that, I know it will be all my fault because I was the one who made you a loner, and I won’t be able to take that,” Suddenly, I saw my father run into the school. He was finally sober, but as he got closer, I saw he was crying. Too late, I thought, you’ve betrayed me beyond a point of forgiveness. I can never forget what you did to me… I pointed the gun at my father fearfully. “Get AWAY! I HATE YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME!!!!!!” I had meant it, because I could never forgive and forget what he had done. By that time, the police had arrived. I backed up slowly from my father but didn’t drop the gun until I was at the other side. I then started to cry. Everything was going worse than ever before. Marcie hugged me tightly as the other students watched. The police had heard what I had screamed at my father, so they handcuffed him. They later interrogated me, and I broke down, telling them everything about how he had abused me.
These scars, emotional and physical, will never go away…I thought, and I cried into my pillow, into the darkness that surrounded me. But…I will always have someone, Don. And if that doesn’t work out, I’m still best friends with Marcie. We will always be.
“Ugh, enough with that,” I said. I decided that staying up all night wouldn’t be good if I was training to get ready for the assignment. Then, I rolled over, and drifted off to sleep.

--------------------------------
Yeah it's kinda depressed but oh well...

Well I'm gonna make a welcome sign for myself! heh

byez


Comments (3)