Stay Strong

It had gotten so bad that she couldn't even remember what it sounded like to hear someone else say her name. Her parents were drunk most of the time, and the slurred syllables coming out of their mouths sounded nothing like her name.

At school, the other kids called her lots of names, but never once her real one. So at night, when the loneliness and hopelessness threatened to overwhelm her, she whispered her name.

"Hannah. My name is Hannah."

The words were faint and ghostly in the bare attic, carried on the cold drafts from the foggy windows.

Be strong. That was her motto. When the other kids threw her books down the hallways and stomped on her homework, or when they broke her pencils or stole her meager lunch, those were the words that stopped the tears from coming. Stopped her chin from quivering, stopped her legs from just running away.

Instead, she'd quietly pick up the now battered books, gather her crumpled papers, and try to spread them out as smooth as possible.

The teachers had no idea what was going on. They just saw a shy, quiet girl who got surpisingly good grades but seemed to take little care of her books. She would get even better grades if the teachers hadn't of had to take off for the mud and tears in all of her homework.

After she'd walked the two miles home she'd sit cross-legged on her bed and carefully labor over her schoolwork. It kept her mind off of all her troubles, if only for a little while. And if there was a paper that needed typed, she walk to the library, her only other haven of peace and quiet.

Everyday she woke up, she told herself that today would be the day, the day that things would get better. The day her parents would wake up sober and not with a massive hang-over, the day someone would say something ncie to her in the school hallways or maybe ask her name.

It was wishful thinking, really, and she knew it.

Today, when she woke up, she told herself today was the day. The day she was going to end this living nightmare.

She hadn't quite figured out how she was going to do it, but those were minor details.

She had never thought that she would come to this point, but she just wanted it to be over, wanted it to be done. She was tired and lonely, out of hope, and didn't feel like fighting anymore. She'd given up. She was tired of taking the hard path, so now she choose the easy way out--death.

She hated herself for it, but she was too weak to keep going.

She gathered up her books and papers, and began the long walk to school. It was an overcast day, but she didn't even notice. Her brain was in a fog, and her body was numb. It was as if, after all these years, the final strand that had held her together had snapped.

When she reached the school, she walked down the hallway to her locker, eyes straight head, ears dead to the taunts and jeers.

She reached her locked and punched in the combination. The locker door swung open, and she placed her books and papers inside. She shut the door and turned away, heading to homeroom.

She'd almost reached the homeroom, when one of the other students stuck out a foot and tripped her.

As she fell towards the floor, time seemed to slow down. Her brain was still foggy, only registering You're falling. She wasn't even embarrassed, didn't even care. She didn't even know why she was here.

Halfway to the floor, her body halted, suspended in mid-air.

What happened?

"Hey, are you all right?" A boy's voice cut through the fog. Now she could feel his hands on her shoulder and arm, holding her.

She forced herself to stand up straight and felt her face flushing.

"Y-yes, I-I think so."

He smiled, letting go. He peered closely at her face. "I'm Jacob. I don't think I've meet you before. What's your name?"

Had someone actually asked her her name?! She stared at him, wide eyed, before realizing what she was doing. She shut her mouth with a snap. "Oh, um, uh, sorry."

"Sorry?" he smiled in bewilderment.

"No, no, it's Hannah."

"Nice to meet you Hannah."

Hannah made her way into homeroom, taking her usual seat in the back of the class. Jacob moved on to his own class, leaving her lost in a daze.

Someone helped me. Someone asked my name.

She took a deep breath. Stay strong.