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by lewey
Rated: 13+ · Prose · Emotional · #1761070
Don’t Judge a book by its cover this is the lesson we all still need to learn.
I'm the captain of the volleyball team, I get straight A’s, I have the perfect quarterback boyfriend, and to top it all off, i'm the most popular girl in school. People wish they had my life, they take one look at me and wish they were me. I could tell you I enjoy the attention and I enjoy being the source of everyone’s envy. If I told you that, then I would be lying. the truth is, I wish I wasn’t me. I wish I were dead.

When I was five years only my mother left me and my father to fend on our own. At that point in time dad could still keep a job and his drinking was light. When she left he became angry at me, I think it was because I looked so much like her. Except for my eyes, my eyes were blue, just like his. Maybe that’s why he never looked me in the eyes when he beat me. After he was done letting out his frustrations I would cry and tell myself he didn’t mean it. I had a habit of lying for him, because no matter how many times he hit me I still loved him.

When I was seven, I was a pro at lying. Teachers would ask me where I got all my random bruises from. And I would always spit out the perfect lies to keep them away. I pretended to be the happy and the perfect child, and it helped that dad and I always had the money to buy me the latest trends. By then the beating was normal, like brushing my teeth in the morning or eating lunch. It was routine. Some days he wouldn’t hurt me though, some days he was my father again. Not the monster who called me May, my mothers name. I wasn’t may though, I was Morgan. I will always be Morgan.

By the age of 14 I became accustomed to lying to people and pretending to be happy. At school I was fake, not the real me. I was a stranger to myself. I put on make up to hide my blackened eyes, to hide my disgrace. I was ashamed of the bruises, the bruises that were signs of how much he hated me. But I still loved him. Its pitiful really, but I didn’t care he was the only parent I had left. By this time I was a freshman in High School and was on the volley ball team. I was popular and just got a new boyfriend and you’ll never believe who asked me out, john Davis. He’s the hottest and the most popular guy at school. And that’s when every girl first started being jealous of me. That’s when my popularity really started, when I dated John Davis. No one knew who he really was, no one knew how bad he was. But I did, after a month being with John, I realized how much of a monster he really was. He scares me, but I couldn’t let him go. He was my tie to popularity. To being normal.

Im Now 17 years old and life hasn’t been much better than before. I'm still dating John and I’ve learned that there is no love without hate. I absolutely hate John in the past 3 years he has cheated on me with my best friend and smacked me around a couple of times to keep me in line. He’s no better than the monster that’s my dad. Dad. The beatings have been horrible lately. I would get home and he would beat me until I could barely move. Leaving huge, swelling bruises on me. I cant take it anymore, this perfect life that belongs to me. Its consuming me, swallowing me up into a dark hole that has no escape. And I keep screaming and screaming but no can hear me, because no ones listening. Do you know what its like to be surrounded by people who act like they care about you but the first chance they get they stab you in the back. I do, but I guess that’s what happens when your ‘That Girl’ the girl that everyone thinks has the perfect life. The popular girl. The happy girl whose got everything. When really you’re the miserable girl, screaming. The girl who hides her tears and bruises behind pounds of make up, just put on a little here and there in the morning to hide the truth. The girl so close to the edge.

Im standing here with John he’s laughing and elbowing me in the rib, I know this will leave a bruise, he’s telling me to look at him. I turn and look at his face, his beautiful face. The face that hurt me and slapped me. My breaths started to come faster and the words fell out before I could stop them.
“ John I don’t want to date you anymore. Im sick of all this stuff you’ve put me through.”
He stared at me as anger spread across his face, he lifted his arm and slapped me across the face then walked away, leaving me standing there alone in the school hallway. I walked down the hallway slowly. Im free, im finally free of one of the monsters. And now its time to deal with the other. I walk out of the school and head home.

I walk into my run down house, there’s trash everywhere and dads standing in the kitchen as if he’s been waiting for me. His blue eyes pierce into mine and his face softens.
“Hello Morgan.” He says stifley. I give him a brief smile and walk into my room, he follows behind me stopping at my door. I set my purse down and walk to my desk. I reach into my top drawer and wrap my hand around the cold metal. I have been saving this for a long time, planning it for a long time. I think back to when I was five the first time he hit me, it sent me flying across the room into a wall. When I looked up at him there was a anger in his eyes as there has always been every time he hit me. Every time he beat me till I couldn’t move. I shake my head, I just cant handle this life anymore, I cant risk being beat anymore, its time to end it.
I pull out my pistol and face my dad, his blue eyes, my blue eyes, get wide. His whole body freezes. As tears fall down my face I speak to him, “ Dad I love you, but I'm not mom. You cant keep hurting me like this. It needs to stop and this is the only way. Im so sorry.” and with these last words, I pulled the trigger and sent a bullet flying into my fathers head. Its over, im finally free. Free from all my chains.
I smiled to myself and my tears fall harder.

“ I am Morgan Harrison. I'm the captain of the volleyball team, I get straight A’s, I had the perfect quarterback boyfriend, and to top it all off, I'm the most popular girl in school. People wish they had my life, they take one look at me and wish they were me. I could tell you I enjoy the attention and I enjoy being the source of everyone’s envy. If I told you that, then I would be lying. the truth is, I wish I wasn’t me. I wish I were dead. And now I will be.”

I lifted the cold metal pistol to my head and pull the trigger. Everything goes black and I'm free. I'm not that girl anymore. All that’s left of me is who I was. I was a girl hiding behind a mask. A girl screaming to be free. I was that girl. I was someone who was dying to be free and now I finally am. Do I have any regrets for what I did? Not a chance
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