Marie

Marie came to me because I always have been vigilant and seen how bullies tear their victims apart sometimes. It hurts to see, and I never understood how it goes on so often. As a child, other kids were mean to me, but nothing serious. Marie's abuse is not shown in the story, but it is a higher level of abuse than I never hope any child should have to go through. 

Marie stands and watches the other children play. Legs kicking swings higher into the air, bright smiles and laughter. A single leaf drifts slowly down and distant thunder is heard in the distance. She fades away.


Clouds of dust mark the school bus's arrival. Eleice runs to the door, full of questions about Marie's school day. Big sisters try to protect. Big sisters try to be role models. Big sisters turn a blind eye to abuse.


"Did you have a good day, Marie?"


Stooped down to eye level, Eleice tries on her kindest big sister smile. Marie turns her back, silently trods down the dark hallway. The beatings continue. Her spirit is turning gray. She cries, hungry, and no one comes to comfort her. She rubs her bruised skin, an old habit, and tries to escape into the night.


Days pass, seasons pass, but life stays the same. She is tired now, tries to stand up straight but can't anymore. Fragments of memory flit through her mind like wild butterflies. She sees the hand, not the face, coming down again. Hears the harsh words. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter. It never ends. At school she hears them talk.


"She's so different."


"I hate her."


"Why don't you smile, Marieeee?"


Syllables drawn out into a nasty mockery. She cannot explain or voice the pain inside, and if they could see it, they would scream.


Home is not home but a place she is dragged back to, needs for survival. Years pass and she is older now, boys are attracted to her. They make things worse. It is the same hand, the same voice, but different people wield it against her, even though by now she has learned that the past is the past. Sitting in a room with a brightly painted cartoon dog on the wall, they peer at her like a specimen. They write notes. It's all a game to them. Questions, so many questions, until she puts her head in her arms and curls into a tight ball. They whisper about her now, she can hear the mock pity in their voices, the scritch-scratch of pens on paper, writing more observations. Then the doors open and she is free until next Saturday. Eleice doesn't smile at her now, she looks down with what looks like pity. She whispers about Marie, too, when she thinks she isn't listening.


One day it is too much. She is too tired and knows what lies ahead. She knows. Wearily yet determined she pulls the noose tight around her neck. Bends her head in a last wish, and goes.


They whisper still, yet not as much as before.


"She was troubled."


"She didn't want to live."


Marie still listens, although lacking her sight, it is still the same to her. It's how life was before. The tunnels are dark, so dark, and she calls it home. She is free like the wind, the birds sing their greetings to her, the moon is her night light. She smiles, finally, and fades away.