You're Not Worthless Read online

It’s Monday-exactly one week since I was pushed down the stairs by Jazmine. I’m lying in bed, as the alarm on my phone buzzes. When I sit up to turn it off, I find that the sound isn’t hurting my head. And when I click on the screen to turn it on, the light doesn’t seem to irritate my eyes as badly. But it’s 6:30 in the morning. I’ve been sleeping in until 11:30 every morning for the past week, and if I’m being honest, it doesn’t feel great being up so early in the morning.

  “Kalani!” I hear my mom’s voice. Then I see her face, as she makes her way from down the hallway, and into my doorway. She stands there, staring at me.

  “It’s been one week,” she says.

  “I know.”

  “How does your head feel?” My mom asks. “Are you going to make it into school?”

  I don’t respond at first.

  “If not, I need to go down to your school and give your principal the note that the doctor gave us, excusing you from class for longer than the week that the school gave you.” My mom says.

  I’m about to say that I can make it to school today, but something stops me cold. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Jazmine might still be mad at me. And the fact that all of those kids at school know that she shoved me down the stairs. I can’t stop thinking about the idea that all of those kids at school are going to see me and then mock me for having to leave school early. And for not showing up for a week. The idea of going to school and being harassed, makes me feel nauseous. I can’t do it. I can’t go to school today.

  “I’m kind of getting a headache,” I lie. “Maybe I shouldn’t go to school today...” I try not to make eye contact, in fear that my mom will see right through me. In fear that she’ll force me to get ready and go to school, and face all of those intimidating kids.

  She takes the bait. “Okay,” she says. “I’m gonna take your doctor’s note to school, and talk to the principal.”

  I let out a deep breath as my mom walks back down the hall. I feel bad that I lied to get out of school.

  But I can’t face those kids.

  I can’t...

  Five

  I ended up staying home for another week because of how scared I was to go back to school. The truth is, I tried to stay home again today, but my mom wouldn’t let me. She said that I should be fine by now, and that I can’t miss anymore school. Lucas still picked me up even though it’s technically been my turn to drive him ​​to school for over two weeks now. I tried to make myself look extra presentable this morning, so that maybe people will be distracted by how pretty I look, and forget to insult me today. My hair is straight, and parted just barely to the side; it barely passes my shoulders, and I coated my lashes with mascara.

  Lucas commented on how pretty my eyes looked today. That’s the power of mascara; it makes your eyes stand out. It makes people notice you. Although Lucas boosted my self-esteem a little bit when I got into his car this morning, my stomach still begins to churn as he pulls into the student parking lot. I’m about to open my door when I feel Lucas’s hand clamp down on my shoulder. I look back at him, startled.

  “Listen,” he begins, clearly serious. “I know you’re afraid to go in there. But just know that I’m with you,” he nods. “I’ll stand with you. And I’ll walk with you, throughout the entire day. I’ll be there for you.”

  I stare at Lucas for a moment and smile. I’m not sure what I did to deserve his friendship.

  All I know is that I’m not sure where I’d be without him.

  “Thank you, Lucas.” We both exchange a look, then open our doors.

  Walking through the parking lot isn’t so bad. It’s when we get inside that everything changes. People are staring, and people are laughing. I’m not sure what’s so funny because all I’ve done is walk through the door.

  “You look good, Kalani,” a boy says. He wears a grin that makes my skin crawl.

  “What?” I say, but the word barely escapes me.

  “We all know why you’re trying to look so good today, huh?” He says. I shake my head in confusion.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, which only makes the crowd burst into a second round of laughter.

  Lucas grabs the inside of my elbow and pulls me through the crowd.

  “You’re obviously trying to promote the photo shoot you had recently!” The boy shouts, and the crowd erupts in laughter.

  I turn to face the boy, who I don’t even know, but for some reason, who seems to know me.

  “My... What?” More laughter.

  “Kalani, look.” Lucas says. I turn away from the random boy and the crowd of people to see what Lucas is talking about. And that’s when my stomach drops.

  Papers. Papers everywhere. Plastered all over the walls, and littering the floor and main staircase. Plastered all over people’s lockers. I walk towards the wall closest to me and rip one of the papers from where it was taped down. It’s me. But it isn’t me. But it’s me.

  ​​My head, photo shopped onto a woman’s body. And all she’s wearing is a tiny black bikini. And the most sickening part about it is the fact that it looks real. ​It looks like I posed for this photo.

  I can already feel the tears before they even fall. I don’t want to cry in front of all of these people. I can’t. They’ll just make fun of me. But I can’t do much to stop the tears from falling.

  “Aw, look!” Someone shouts, but I can’t tear my eyes from the photo shopped picture.

  “She’s crying!” More laughter. I finally look up at all of the people who have suddenly surrounded me.

  My eyes go everywhere, bouncing from the grins on every face in the school, to the pictures plastered all over every inch of the school, to Lucas, and back. And I’m suddenly overwhelmed. I can feel Lucas pulling me from the crowd, and away from the pictures. I can see him grabbing at every single picture he can grasp, so I do the same. We gather as many pictures as we can, and we run. I can still hear the laughter of every student in the main hall as Lucas shuts the girl’s bathroom door between us and them. Then he locks it.

  “Now they’re slut shaming me?!” I blurt out. I let out a sob, and fall to the floor. I rest my head in my hands and rock back and forth right there in the middle of the bathroom.

  I can hear Lucas sit down right in front of me, but I can’t seem to look at him. I can’t face him.

  Suddenly, I feel two arms, pulling me from my place. I don’t resist, because at this moment in time, all I can think about is the photoshopped picture of me that isn’t me... and about how many people saw it. All of a sudden, I’m sitting in Lucas’s lap, because that’s where he pulled me; into his lap. I rest my head on his chest, and let him rock me back and forth. He runs his fingers through my hair over and over, to sooth me.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Lucas is whispering it over and over in such a soothing voice, that I almost believe him.

  He lets me sob into his shirt for the rest of the morning.

  * * *

  I told Lucas that he could go back to class if he wanted, but he refused to leave me alone. Instead, we decided to try and find every single photo shopped picture of me, so that we could throw them away. We start in the main hallway. There’s at least a hundred of them. I decide to start tearing the pictures from the walls, while Lucas begins picking the spare ones up from the floor.

  “What baffles me is the fact that not one of the teachers or staff did anything,” Lucas says. He has a giant pile of the pictures sitting in the middle of the main floor, and a bunch of them in his hands. He quickly crumples the pictures up into a ball and then throws them in the pile on the floor.

  “I know,” I say, and I am shocked. How could they all just sit there and do nothing about it?

  I begin ripping the pictures off the walls quickly, and then crumpling them up into a ball. Then I throw them into the pile, too. Once we’re done with the main hallway, we gather the pile of pictures and throw them in the dumpster outside.

  “Okay, only five more floors to go,” Lucas says once bac
k inside. I stare at him for a moment.

  “How many people do you think saw the pictures?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper. I look down at the floor, because for some reason the thought of Lucas seeing them is equally as embarrassing as everyone else seeing them.

  “Everyone,” Lucas says. His voice is sad, and full of sympathy. I nod in agreement.

  “Were people talking about me while I was gone?” I ask, looking up at him.

  “You know, the weird thing is, nobody said anything while you were gone,” Lucas says.

  “It’s like you left for two weeks, and everybody got over all of the rumors about... You know...”

  “I guess not,” I say, and Lucas nods.

  “I just can’t believe someone would do this...” Lucas says. “I mean it’s already bad enough calling someone names, but to do this, ​ I just can’t believe it...”

  “I can,” I say, looking up at him. “I mean think about it, Jazmine has been calling me awful ​things this entire time. Now she’s just trying to make me look as bad as she thinks I am.”

  “You think it was Jazmine?” Lucas asks. “You think she would take it this

  far?”

  I nod. “Considering she pushed me down the stairs, yeah,” I say. “I think she would ​ take it this far.”

  Lucas doesn’t speak. Not for a long time. I guess, that’s because there’s nothing left to say.

  “Come on,” he says finally. “We have a lot more papers to clean up.”

  I nod, and together, we climb the steps of the main staircase to the second floor. We spend the rest of the day cleaning up papers. We make several trips to the dumpster outside, because just throwing them in the trash bins inside isn’t enough. They need to completely disappear. If they’re in the trash bins inside, people can just pick them right back out. By the time we’re done throwing away every paper we can find, the final bell is about to ring.

  I grab the last paper I can see, which is sitting on the fifth floor, and shove it in my backpack.

  “What are you doing?” Lucas asks.

  “If I throw this last picture away, I have no proof that someone did this. No teacher will believe me if I don’t have physical proof.”

  The bell rings right then, so Lucas and I book it. We jog down the main staircase, until we reach the bottom. Then we make our way to Lucas’s car. As soon as Lucas unlocks the car doors, I’m inside and buckling myself in. I want to forget this day ever happened.

  “Are you okay, Kalani?” Lucas asks me. I can feel his eyes on me. He’s analyzing me again.

  “I...” I’m about to lie to him, but for some reason, I just can’t seem to do it. Lucas has been loyal to me through and through. He’s stuck by my side despite everything that’s happened to me... Despite my reputation. I feel guilty lying to him all the time.

  I close my eyes and shake my head a little. I can already feel a tear forming in my eyelids.

  “I just... Don’t understand how... People can just do things like this... And feel no remorse for what they did...” That’s when the first tear drops.

  I can feel Lucas’s hand on my back. “I’m so sorry this had to happen to you, Kalani. I am.”

  I let the tears fall quicker, because there’s no point in hiding them anymore. I have officially hit rock bottom. I no longer feel optimistic about what my future holds at this school. I no longer have faith that everything will be alright. I officially hate society. And I hate what everyone has done to society’s ethics and morals. I officially hate how corrupt this world is. And I hate what the standards of society have done to the world. The people in this world have changed it for the worst.

  Maybe it hurts this bad, because I know in my heart that I wouldn’t dare do to these people what these people are doing to me. Never.

  * * *

  I’m sitting in the bathroom that’s connected to my bedroom. It’s sprawling, just like my bedroom. It boasts white marble tiles, a grey double vanity sink and a shower boasting jets.

  I’m perched on the toilet with the seat down and bathroom door locked. I’ve been experiencing a lot of different types of pain within the past few weeks. I’ve felt physical pain, from being pushed down the stairs, and emotional pain, from being harassed with the photoshopped pictures. I want to feel a different kind of pain.

  Reluctantly, I stand from where I’m sitting, and make my way over to the shower. I grab my razor from where it sits in its cubby, which is attached to the wall. Then I return to where I was sitting on the toilet seat.

  I’m beginning to panic, and I can feel sweat forming where my hairline starts. I take a deep breath in; it shakes on the way out. I continue to breathe in and out for a few minutes, until I feel calmer. Then, I carefully touch the razor to my left wrist. I close my eyes, and take a few more deep breaths. In.

  Out. In. Out. I press the razor down hard. Then I slice. I let out a sound of pain, that’s not quite human.

  When I look down at my wrist, I can see blood spilling out over the top of the cut. I squeeze my eyes shut because it hurts to even look at it. I hear a knock at the door and automatically stand from my place on the toilet.

  “Who is it?” I ask.

  “It’s Caden. Are you okay? Mom and I heard a scream,” Caden says.

  “Um, yeah, I was just about to get in the shower, but I slipped, and I almost fell down.” I say. “It kind of startled me...”

  I hear a long pause. Then: “Okay, I’ll go tell mom you’re okay... weirdo...” I hear loud footsteps. They begin to sound farther and farther away until there’s nothing but silence.

  I sit back down and examine my wrist. The blood is beginning to bubble, and I can see a line of blood trailing down into the palm of my hand. I take a few more deep breaths. Then I place the razor a few centimeters below the first cut. I slice again. This time I hold back the scream; instead it is replaced with a low groan. The blood continues to trickle down my arm, as I begin to climb and cut higher and higher up on my arm.

  The color begins to mesmerize me; blood is surprisingly dark-almost black. The pain of the cuts is beginning to overwhelm me. I stand from my place on the toilet, but I begin to feel dizzy. I’m about to take a step towards the double vanity when everything goes black.

  Six

  I’m lying on the bathroom floor when I wake up. Dazed and confused, I’m not sure what happened. One minute I was standing up, and then the next, I was on the ground. I look down at where my arm is lying on the ground. It’s coated with blood. But for some reason, I’m numb to any pain. I sit up, which makes me feel nauseous. I need to wipe the blood off of my arm. It’s starting to get sticky. I pull myself up, using the edge of the bathroom sink. Then I turn the water onto cold, and start scrubbing.

  I let out a tight gasp, but cut myself off. The numbness that once masked the pain subsides. Scrubbing hurts. Scrubbing definitely hurts. I decide to just let the water run down my arm for a few minutes, because even just touching the cuts, hurts. After a while the cold water begins to bring my arm back to a numb state, which allows me to scrub at the dried blood again. Once I’m finished, I dry my arm off, and leave the bathroom. I’m surprised that nobody heard me fall; it’s weird how nobody seemed to notice that I mysteriously vanished.

  My phone is sitting on my bed, right where I left it. I cross my room to where it’s laying, and click the screen on. I went into the bathroom at 5:30. It’s 7:00 right now. Again, it’s strange to me how nobody even thought to come and check on me. I’ve been passed out for an hour and a half. It doesn’t matter. All I know is that my arm hurts, and I’m ready for the day to be over.

  I pull the covers from my bed, and slide in. Then I set my alarm for 6:30, so I can wake up for school in the morning.

  I guess it’s a good thing that nobody came looking for me. If they did, they probably would have found me, laying on the bathroom floor, unconscious. Who knows what would have happened? Yes, it is a good thing that nobody found me. Because nobody needs to know.

/>   * * *

  “Kalani, it’s 75 degrees outside,” Lucas says, as I jump into the passenger’s seat so that he can take me to school.

  “You’re gonna roast,” he says. Little does he know, that I’m wearing this black hoodie, to cover up the cuts on my left arm.

  “I woke up cold this morning,” I lie. “I don’t know, I’m just cold today.”

  Lucas only shrugs. Then he starts the car and drives down the road. I let out a sigh of relief and stare out the car window. Lucas may be smart, but he’s also kind of oblivious. When we get to school, I don’t waste time trying to get to my first class. It’s been an entire week since the photo shopped pictures were blasted all over the school, yet people are still talking about it. I don’t want to waste any time and possibly be caught in the fire of some random heartless kid who saw the picture.

  “I’ll see you after class, okay?” Lucas says.

  I nod, then step into class.

  Mr. Smith is already taking attendance, his bright blue eyes focused on the paper he’s holding in his shaking hands.

  “Is Jazmine Davis here today?” Mr. Smith asks. He looks up, investigating the room.

  Jazmine raises her hand. She’s sitting in the front row of the classroom, and all I want to do is smack her for everything she’s done to me within the past three and a half months. Mr. Smith nods, then scribbles something down on the sheet in front of him.

  “Kalani Young?” He calls out.

  I raise my hand, suddenly anxious. Again, Mr. Smith nods, and quickly scribbles on the sheet he’s holding.

  “Oh, look,” Jazmine says, “The attention seeker finally showed up to school today.”

  Jazmine giggles, and the rest of the class follow in suit.

  “That’s enough, you guys,” Mr. Smith says. “Settle down.”

  The class falls quiet, returning to whatever it was they were doing before. Mr. Smith smiles sadly at me, and I nod as a way to say thank you. Once the bell rings, I quickly stand from where I was sitting and practically sprint out of the room. Lucas isn’t waiting by the door, which is odd. He probably got caught in the crowd.