Victory (Fiction - Short Story) ©

On the outside, she was no more than a typical 15-year-old girl. But as she lay in bed that night, thoughts raced through her mind so fast that she couldn’t comprehend them. She had nobody she could talk to, and even if she did, they wouldn’t understand.

Light from the street lamps forced its way through her curtains and she knew she wasn’t getting any sleep that night. With a stressed sigh, she crawled out of her bed and stumbled to the light switch.

“I really need to tidy this room…” she whispered to herself, though the thought left her mind as quickly as it had entered.

With not much else to keep herself occupied with and her recent lack of interest in school work, she grabbed her diary from her desk, which was piled up with unfinished homework and letters from her head teacher, and began her sixteenth entry to her diary, her single outlet for emotion.



Diary Entry 16 - 22 February, 2010

Do you ever feel alone, unimportant, as if the world would do much better without you? I do. All the time. Every hate-filled second of my useless existence I am made to feel worthless and inferior by everyone around me, my parents, my brother, my schoolmates, everyone. Except James. James Bennett, my best friend, my only friend, the only one I can trust with my life, with my happiness.

I dread going to school everyday, yet I dread coming home, too. I feel as if there is no place for me to exist, no place where anyone wants me to be - except away from them...

School is the worst place - every time I'm awoken in the morning by my parents' ruthless screams and scarring, piercing curses towards one and other, I dread leaving for fear of not returning - yes, it's THAT bad...

Like today, for example - I walk to school reluctantly, trip over my shoelace, nearly choke on my chewing gum and walk into a lamppost - that might be as bad as the day gets for a normal 15-year-old, right? Not me. That was the highlight of MY day...

The second I walked through the school gates, time seemed to slow down, come almost to a standstill, as a burning knot tied mercilessly tight in the pit of my stomach - they were waiting for me again. They always wait. Matt Lawrence and his gang. They're always there. What have I, Noella Carey, done to deserve this kind of treatment from THEM?

Matt was grinning smugly towards me, gently tossing a small rock up and down in his hand, to portray the message to me that it would not be long until that rock met my face. Carl Healy was leaning casually against the bike locks, smoking a cigarette, he turned and winked patronizingly - a sure sign of what was about to come. Kiah Wood and Alan Bunce were holding modelling knives they'd stolen from the Graphics department, pointing them towards me in a sickening, threatening way. Adam Greenwood was sitting in the shadows behind them, holding his knees up to his chest, mouthing the words, 'I'm so sorry, Jayne' towards me - this was a common occurrence. You wouldn't think he was a part of their gang...

I took one last look at the stone cold, vicious faces of the so-called, 'Matt Pack', and clenched my eyes shut as time sped back up, ready for the torture...

And now here I am, covered in bruises and cuts, painful and bleeding, but it's okay, because I'm used to it now. I'm used to the physical pain, it's just the emotion that comes with it that I can't seem to adjust to - That I need help with.

That's where James comes in. I go to him everyday to sooth my soul. He always mends my heart, if only for a day.

 That's why I wish away the first sixteen hours of everyday.


After only an hour of sleep, Noella was awoken brutally from her deep, sleepy state by the blinding light seeping through the curtains, her eyes burned by sun-rays. She groaned reluctantly, and rolled over onto her side, waiting for 8:07 AM, exactly seven minutes after her Dad got up and met her Mom in the kitchen for there daily morning argument - that was Jayne's wake-up alarm.



*SMASH*



There it was. Another glass broken against the wall as it was aimed by Vicky at Aaron's face.

Time to get up, Noella thought flatly. She sighed and used every ounce of the strength she possessed in the morning to prop herself up and step out of bed. She rubbed her left eye with her right hand ferociously, trying to rub away the sting of the sunlight. She dragged her heavy self to the bathroom, grabbing her school shirt and tie on her way.

She floundered down the stairs at exactly 8:35 AM, just like every other morning.

"Hi Mom, Dad, Riley, Bye." She said under her breath, just like every other morning.

She walked her shaking, nerve-wracked body to school, trying her best to enjoy the few minutes in between family and schoolmates where she was left in peace. The sharp breeze hit her face soothingly, easing the anxiety a little. The light raindrops tapped softly on her thought-filled head.

The school gates were in her sight. All soothing and calm thoughts were washed away in a wave of evil and brutality.

She sped her pace in attempt to walk off the unease.

She approached the rusty, mould-green gates, forced back a tear that tried to push its way out, and put her left foot around the corner, at which moment, she felt a cold, strong hand on her shoulder - she gasped and span around to face someone she had had no desire to face...



“Mr Carter?”

“ Miss Carey, can you follow me to my office for a moment, please? I’m afraid we have some issues with your lack of concentration in lessons”.



She followed him, adrenaline building up inside her - she knew this was the time to reveal what Matt and his friends had been doing. But she was terrified. What would they do if they found out? She could never show her face in school again. Because she would leave with it covered in cuts.



Upon entering the office, she was met with someone even more frightening than Matt or her head teacher.



“Mom?”

She panicked.



“Right, Noella, I want you to explain to me right this second why I found several letters on your desk this morning that were addressed to me and your father! Why haven’t you told us you have been doing badly in school? Don’t you trust us? Gosh, I swear you’re going to be on the streets someday if you continue with this behaviour!”




She didn’t care anymore. She’d held it all in for so long that she was about to burst.



“You want to know why I don’t tell you?! Because you don’t listen! All you and Dad do is argue, all Riley does is tell me how worthless I am, Matt and his crew taunt me every day of my life and I cover up for it! I try to tell you these things but all you’re ever interested in is masking the emotional pain of your failing marriage with alcohol! You want to be a good parent? Then ask me how I am once in a while!”



The tension in the room could have been cut with a chainsaw.



“Did you say you’re getting bullied in school? Why didn’t you tell me?”



“I did! But you don’t listen, remember?”



“Noell, I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be so ignorant… I’ll make it up to you, I promise”.



Noella watched her Mother begin to weep. She never tears up, not even in the most stressful of situations. Her mother is one of the toughest people she ever knew. It was at that moment she realised that her Mother was her role model. This was the pattern she wanted to follow; someone who was strong enough take criticism and bullying and reciprocate it back to who started it. Someone who wouldn’t stand for being treated like a doormat.



She realised that she was never alone to begin with. It was just how she perceived it.



On the outside, she was no more than a typical 15-year-old girl. And now, her outside matched her inside.