The Girl in the Long-Sleeved Blue Shirt
It was an ordinary day, just like any other. Only not for her. To her eyes, everything looked
different. The hallways seemed bigger and somehow less crowded than usual. That morning,
it was all about her. She walked through those well known classrooms as she had never done
before. For once, she didn’t feel invisible; or maybe she did, 一 she just couldn’t care less.
It wasn’t like all the pain was gone, but she was determined not to look back. Not to fall apart
and keep smiling like she had been doing for years. She had always felt misunderstood, and
she very well knew no one would understand her choice either. Her world was falling apart.
Early dismissal. She didn’t have that in mind, but it would give her time to do some other stuff
she was wondering whether to do or not. She walked up to her locker, and entered the original
combination the school had set the very first day of her freshman year. She had never changed
it, no one was interested in what she kept inside of it. It was pretty much empty already, Ella
wasn’t actually the kind of girl who put up pictures with her friends and family. In fact, she wasn’t
exactly the friendly kind of girl. To everyone’s eyes she was simply weird. Most days she would
sit by herself at the cafeteria一that is if she dared to go to that jungle like room full of starving
animals一, and read a victorian novel, or listen to her stagey music with her headphones on.
In short, people usually didn’t like her. Not the smallest questioning about her; they didn’t even
care.
She was aware of that, and acted as she didn’t care either. Of course she did. She deeply
cared about what everyone said, and felt devastated by the fact that no one really said anything
at all. Some people didn’t even know who she was. Not until the day she didn’t come back to
school anymore.
After packing her Algebra book and her tiny red notebook she carried everywhere she went,
she closed the now empty locker, and changed the combination. With hollow eyes and a faked
smile, which was already a nasty habit of hers, she walked out of school in her black denims
and her long sleeve blue shirt. The few blocks to her house, those she had walked alone
everyday一 those that had seen her grow up from that pretty glowing little girl to the young
lonely teenager who was dead inside, were empty.
When she got home, there was no one there. Both disappointment and relief overwhelmed
her. Yes, she was determined but still she was hoping someone could change her mind. But
again, she was alone. Even if she hadn’t been, no one knew what was going through her mind.
No one could see her pain, no one could shed her tears. No one had ever taught her to stand
for her beliefs, no one had ever told her how beautiful she was inside and out. Every single
day meant a struggle between who she was and who she pretended to be. Everyday a new
disappointment, a new failure. That was to be over. Enough pain, no more sadness. She had to
set herself free.
Her parents would never worry again, or so she thought. The truth was that after that day
guilt would be their continuous feeling. Anger and deep sadness would stalk them too. They
didn’t know what their own daughter was going through. They would never forgive themselves
for being so harsh on her, and for not reaching out when she was screaming for help but still
wasn’t heard. Everything made sense, they could finally see all the signs they had missed.
Sadly, it was too late. For the rest of their lives they would be dead inside; they’d be dead just
like Ella was.
Suicide shouldn’t be an option. Its causes? Endless things. Even the littlest thing you say
may hurt someone across the room. It’s not a call for attention, is pain held inside for years.
On Self Harm and Suicide Prevention Awareness Month a teenager sat by her computer
desk and started typing what she thought was a journal. Her own feelings scared her but she
carried on anyway. She put into words what she had been living for years but feared to talk
about. She got caught up by her emotions and by her imagination. The fine line between both
almost disappeared. Would anyone ever read her story? She’d never know. Her only aim was
to raise awareness, to talk about what people usually avoided, to show herself as real and
vulnerable as she could, to let it all out.
different. The hallways seemed bigger and somehow less crowded than usual. That morning,
it was all about her. She walked through those well known classrooms as she had never done
before. For once, she didn’t feel invisible; or maybe she did, 一 she just couldn’t care less.
It wasn’t like all the pain was gone, but she was determined not to look back. Not to fall apart
and keep smiling like she had been doing for years. She had always felt misunderstood, and
she very well knew no one would understand her choice either. Her world was falling apart.
Early dismissal. She didn’t have that in mind, but it would give her time to do some other stuff
she was wondering whether to do or not. She walked up to her locker, and entered the original
combination the school had set the very first day of her freshman year. She had never changed
it, no one was interested in what she kept inside of it. It was pretty much empty already, Ella
wasn’t actually the kind of girl who put up pictures with her friends and family. In fact, she wasn’t
exactly the friendly kind of girl. To everyone’s eyes she was simply weird. Most days she would
sit by herself at the cafeteria一that is if she dared to go to that jungle like room full of starving
animals一, and read a victorian novel, or listen to her stagey music with her headphones on.
In short, people usually didn’t like her. Not the smallest questioning about her; they didn’t even
care.
She was aware of that, and acted as she didn’t care either. Of course she did. She deeply
cared about what everyone said, and felt devastated by the fact that no one really said anything
at all. Some people didn’t even know who she was. Not until the day she didn’t come back to
school anymore.
After packing her Algebra book and her tiny red notebook she carried everywhere she went,
she closed the now empty locker, and changed the combination. With hollow eyes and a faked
smile, which was already a nasty habit of hers, she walked out of school in her black denims
and her long sleeve blue shirt. The few blocks to her house, those she had walked alone
everyday一 those that had seen her grow up from that pretty glowing little girl to the young
lonely teenager who was dead inside, were empty.
When she got home, there was no one there. Both disappointment and relief overwhelmed
her. Yes, she was determined but still she was hoping someone could change her mind. But
again, she was alone. Even if she hadn’t been, no one knew what was going through her mind.
No one could see her pain, no one could shed her tears. No one had ever taught her to stand
for her beliefs, no one had ever told her how beautiful she was inside and out. Every single
day meant a struggle between who she was and who she pretended to be. Everyday a new
disappointment, a new failure. That was to be over. Enough pain, no more sadness. She had to
set herself free.
Her parents would never worry again, or so she thought. The truth was that after that day
guilt would be their continuous feeling. Anger and deep sadness would stalk them too. They
didn’t know what their own daughter was going through. They would never forgive themselves
for being so harsh on her, and for not reaching out when she was screaming for help but still
wasn’t heard. Everything made sense, they could finally see all the signs they had missed.
Sadly, it was too late. For the rest of their lives they would be dead inside; they’d be dead just
like Ella was.
Suicide shouldn’t be an option. Its causes? Endless things. Even the littlest thing you say
may hurt someone across the room. It’s not a call for attention, is pain held inside for years.
On Self Harm and Suicide Prevention Awareness Month a teenager sat by her computer
desk and started typing what she thought was a journal. Her own feelings scared her but she
carried on anyway. She put into words what she had been living for years but feared to talk
about. She got caught up by her emotions and by her imagination. The fine line between both
almost disappeared. Would anyone ever read her story? She’d never know. Her only aim was
to raise awareness, to talk about what people usually avoided, to show herself as real and
vulnerable as she could, to let it all out.