Veil of Tears
By:Gen1900
I felt like a little black ant walking through the high school’s halls.
It was my first day of ninth grade, frankly, I wished it was my last. All the older girls stared at me as if an alien entered. One rolled her eyes after she saw my bright blue sweat pants. I wanted to say, “TAKE a picture it’ll last longer!” , but I kept my cool. Not like I could muster my courage to defend myself anyway.
Mom dubbed me as the mouse when I turned three . . . things haven’t really changed.
Math class went good. I earned slight praise from the teach for answering a question correctly.
History was a different story . . .
I went to take my seat calmly when two tall girls walked in. Their bodies were fit enough for UFC fighting. My heart began to pound something fierce.
“That’s my desk, you COW!” one cried, her eyes narrowing into a glare.
“If you’re lookin’ for a candy bar there ain’t any, ” grumbled the other, who had streaks of red in her hair.
They both mockingly laughed at me.
I glanced at the clock above the teacher’s desk. It was still five minutes to class! The students normally arrived right on the nose.
“Let’s nickname her, Leslie, ” said the red-haired teen.
“I already thought of one . . . CHUBS!” chuckled Leslie.
I remained silent with tears forming on the edge of my nose.
“Oh, look she’s crying! Maybe the truth we speak is gettin’ to her, ” stated Leslie, moving closer to me.
“Please . . . , ” I said quietly sobbed, “go away . . .”
Suddenly a rush of kids came in; books embraced in their arms. They took no notice of a short girl crying in the middle of the floor. The teacher followed and she saw me right away.
“You, ” she commanded, “sit.”
I slumped into one of the chairs and wiped my nose with my sleeve.
At the dinner table that night, my parents urged me to talk about my day.
My stomach turned as Mom spooned a good-size portion of mashed potatoes on my plate. I didn’t feel as if I could eat for weeks. If what those girls said were true, I had to fix it somehow. (In reality, my body was perfect in God’s eyes)
“Eat, May, ” said Mom.
“I don’t feel like it, ” I mumbled.
Not eating became a normal routine for me. I skipped supper practically every night, and only had a small yogurt for breakfast. My weight dropped below normal when spring crept near.
The girls still bullied me between classes. Leslie commented on Friday, “She MIGHT actually be pretty in the future.”
One day I sobbed the whole time in the bathroom during lunch break. My back leaned against the cold, white walls; my head resting forward on my legs.
Then a delicate hand touched my shoulder. I looked up to see a Lady clothed in white. A large, brown cross necklace she wore around her neck.
“Don’t be afraid, dear one, ” She said, so kindly.
I, being frightened, stood up and started to go toward the exit door.
Shockingly she now stood in front of my way.
“Say a Hail Mary, May, three times a day. It’ll give you strength.” That was the last thing She said before She vanished into thin air.
After that event, I was happy . . . genuinely happy. I was healthy again and the girls bothered me no more. I did have to do something to receive that joy . . . just three Hail Mary’s . . . that’s all it takes.
Life still slammed me with troubles, but prayer encouraged me to live on. My next goal was: heaven.
Realistic Fiction
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Your short story was very interesting! This defiantly brought me back during my high school days and bullies. I am glad the main character was able to overcome her eating disorder. I do have some suggestions for you. The ending felt really rushed and out of the blue. Through the whole story there was no mention of religion or any believes. If you want the story to lean to a happy ending with the main character finding her (what I assumed) guardian angel, then mention her family being fateful earlier. Another thing, change your font. It was really hard for me to concentrate on the story; however, this is an easy fix.