Why won’t it stop?

The beeping grows louder, then softer. It’s agitating, but it’s okay. My alarm clock is only doing its job.

Yesterday Jen called Liz fat again. Does it ever end? We do this day in and day out. Every class, Jen has gossip to share and half the time it’s not even news. It’s just stupid b-------. Other girls eat it up. I do too.

“Monica got her dress for prom,” she says. “But it’s the same dress as Stacey, and Stacey got her dress first. But Stacey plays stupid in stat so Mr. Bender will help her. Oh, and can you believe it’s not even the first teacher-student flirt-ationship Mr. Bender has had?”

Liz is a running joke, except no one is allowed to mention her unless they’re Jen. Jen points out how stupid she looks wearing a size small when she’s a definite medium. All we’re allowed to do is agree. She has a nickname for Liz she’s managed to teach all the boys in the tenth grade. It used to be Muffin top. Now it’s Wedding Cake.

It’s beeping still. I’m so tired of all this. I’m tired of the things only she’s allowed to do. I’m tired of saying she’s not rude and it’s funny how she notices so many flaws. I’m tired of piling on makeup and trying to impress others by being the same as them. I’m tired of pretending that Liz can’t hear me as I laugh at her.

The third grade was a simpler time. Liz was shy and she always turned super red. My friends laughed at her. I didn’t at first but I eventually became accustomed to it.

My friends were like ducklings waddling behind Jen, talking about the things Jen talked about and walking the way Jen did. If Jen wore it, everyone else did. All I wanted was to be perfect like Jen, so all the other girls would like me for a change. I adapted to following, but Liz never did. Liz kept to herself, blushing when we were young and hiding it gradually as we grew.

If there’s any one person I’d always thought about, it was her. Her style was a mix between Goodwill and beatnik, so of course the other girls picked her apart. Once I found the girls tearing the clothes right off her body in the locker room. They passed her around like a rag doll, clawing her with plastic nails dripping in blood. They ripped into her clammy flesh, full intent to leave nothing left. They cackled and hooted like wild animals, bearing fangs and words like knives. They stomped ravenously and shredded her with fear embroidered by sequences and love pink. Liz dangled helplessly. Dribbling spit and tears, her face looked so carved out. She must have thought her grimace would help take some of the pain away. If no one did anything about it, she was going to end up blood and ribbons on the locker room floor.
I forced my way between her and them, pushing the other girls away. They gaped at me, even laughed in my face. My skin burned from being spit on by girls I once called friends. I tore out of there holding Liz’s defeated wrist. The caws echoed and feigned, but chased us away just the same. Sanctuary waited outside. As soon as I let go, she fell in a pool of her own blood and tears. I knelt down and held her, soaking up her tears with an absolutely understanding soul. I'd never thought blood could be so scarlet. It shocked me then and still does every time I slit the arteries in my wrist on a rusted blade. That was the only time I ever defended her. Things went back to normal by the ninth grade, though.

Now she doesn’t respond. I try to talk to her sometimes, when the queen and her court aren’t breathing down my neck. It’ll just be me and her. I’d tell her she’s pretty and she’d ask me what it is I really want. I just want to talk, I'd say. I fear she may respond with silence. My belly churns when I think of it.
One day I’ll grab her hands and kiss her. I kill myself just to know what her blush tastes like. Strawberry, I’ll bet.

That’ll never happen though. No chance, not for someone like me.

It’s stopped. The air is still. The sun has broken my windowsill. It splashes my eye and I cower beneath my sheets. My lids still sit heavy, proving I haven’t had a good night’s rest with the past three hours of sleep.

Why do I wake up so early? So I can get to school on time? To get an education? If I’m getting anything from that school, it’s not an education. Headaches, sore heels, shot down. That’s what I get from school. I’m failing, but what’s the point?

I used to always be glued to Jen, like the others. Recently I’ve been trying to stray away. I can tell we’ve grown distant.
Jen won’t look me in the eye anymore. How do I feel about that?
Heartbroken?
Proud?

Honestly, Jen is an image, and I hate her. I haven't lost an ounce of pride, having none, and my heart's laid shattered by hidden emotion for all time.

A voice calls from downstairs. It's my mother. She's asking if her daughter, Gina, is alive. That’s my name, I remember. I lift my hand from beneath my sheet, gaze at the scars lining the space between my hand and my elbow. I drop it onto my chest. A hollow thud rings across my body and deep in my cavernous head. I'm convinced the only thing left inside are tears, and not many at that.

Rattling at the doorknob. I turn away in my blanket. My mother tries her spell once again, praising me with last-minute appreciation. My hands slowly glaze over my ears. Open up, she says. I don't say a word.

Is it still worth it anymore? Would a kiss mean anything at this point?

Mom slams.

I held Liz when she cried before, but now it's like talking to a wall.

Mom breaks a crack in the door.

Why does she only respond with those empty brown eyes?

Mom demands an answer.

I feel Liz in my hands, but can she even feel mine?

I've missed so many days of school, Mom says, I won't graduate with my friends.

What is it that holds back all her tears now?

“Gina,” she exclaims. Mom climbs inside finally.

Please don't hide from me, Lizbeth.

The sheets fly off.

I'm sorry, Liz.

Mom yells at me. Another sleepless night working at the hotel.

Please, Liz. Is it really too late?

I can't hear mom anymore.

No answer. I look over and the room lay open to an empty door.

As usual, insanity is my only company. Why am I so alone?

Why won't it stop?

Why won't it ever stop?