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Teachers say that you're only supposed to be working on HW for about 40 to 60 min. Well, I've been doing my project for more than 5 hours.
5 HOURS. Isn't that odd. Maybe even a little ironic? yes? no?
WELL this is a message to all those teachers:


Behind Every Closed Door
By: Vix

           My family was never close. My mother was always away and my father would come home drunk every night. Siblings? Well, I used to have a sister. Her name was Miranda. She was five when she died in an “accident”. When the police came for her, they looked at me a shook their heads in disappointment. I bet everyone thought I hadn’t protected her, but what do they know? I tried my best, but it was my fault. It was always my fault.

            My mother was drop-dead gorgeous, and she knew that a little too well. She took advantage of her looks everywhere she went. One night, she went out and never returned. That night, my father came home, empty beer bottle still in his hands, and started yelling.

            “YOU,” he pointed as I was walking by. “You! This is your fault!”

            He lunged at me, swinging the empty bottle like he was blindly hitting a baseball. I was backed up against the counter, holding up my arms as a shield for my face. Then a sudden crack beside me awakened me from my shock. I felt something wet on the side of my face. Blood. What else could it have been? The sound echoed through the empty apartment. I quickly got away to my room, stumbling on piles of garbage on the way there.  I closed the door behind me and with a click, locked it. As a routine, I took out my cell phone and punched in Cory’s number. From behind the door, I heard footsteps becoming louder and louder. Then suddenly, it stopped.


            Bang! Bang! He was pounding on the door. I started to sob, unsure of what to do next. I knew if it wasn’t this time, then it would be the next. I’m going to die. Click. The line went dead. I only had the repeated banging to comfort me now. I clutched my phone and sat down in front of the door. I closed my eyes, picturing a lush, green meadow and sunlight, brighter than a diamond. I felt less scared. Suddenly, I heard a series of new footsteps approaching.

            “Hey! Iris, are you in there?” asked Cory.

            My throat closed up. I wanted to answer him, but I couldn’t. Tears started to flow again and my mouth opened up, forming a silent cry.

            “Just wait a sec. Okay, Iris?”

            I could hear fighting on the other side of the door.  I covered my ears with my hands and wished for it to stop. My wish came true for the noise stopped. I heard someone whisper, “Let’s go.” I closed my eyes and next thing, I hit the ground.

            I woke up in a bed. Yet another familiar scene was around me. Hovering over me were my friends, Chrissy and Cory. It didn’t take me long to realize I was at Cory’s house again. I felt trapped within the four walls, but found comfort again as I remembered my friends.

I just closed my eyes again when I heard footsteps coming closer to this room. I shot up just as Cory’s mother entered. Mrs. Crz looked at me and narrowed her eyes. She never did like me much. When she saw Cory and the rest of us looking at her, she turned around and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

            With their attention back on me, Chrissy smiled a fake smile and said, “I would love to have her as a mother.” Her eyes stared right at Cory.

            Cory stood up from his chair, put his hands up and said, “It’s not my choice who I get for a mother.”

            He sat back down and held out a small box.

            “Open it,” he said gently.

            I took the box in my hands and gently tugged on the ribbon. It fell apart and gracefully landed onto the blanket. I slowly opened the box, expecting a small piece of gold or silver. Instead, it held a piece of glass. Anger boiled up inside me as I realized that it was a shard from the weapon my father had tried to use to kill me. That anger soon turned into confusion when I remembered Cory had given it to me.

            “Thank you?” I gave him a puzzled look.

            He laughed and told me to put it away before his mother finds it.


            The next day at school, I walked down the halls with pairs of eyes looking at me. Chrissy was waiting for me by my locker with a bag. I peeked inside. It was full of letters. I looked at her questioningly, but she wouldn’t even hint what was in there. So I went ahead and picked one out randomly. It said “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sorry you suffered. Why didn’t you come to us for help?”

            I looked up, confused by the words in front of me. She dropped the bag, and looked up. I could see tears streaming down her face.

            “What happened? What’s wrong?”

            “Last night. Cory was there… with his friends… they had to protect…. you. The monster… he had… He was…He…”

            She stopped. A familiar voice spoke up behind me.

            “You can’t hide it from her forever, Chrissy.”

            I turned and looked at Cory.


            I stopped. I didn’t want to know anymore. I knew it would be my fault.

            “Your father is dead. The hospital concluded he died from alcohol poisoning. They found bottles in his car and the shattered bottle in the kitchen. I’m sorry. Hey. Don’t cry. It’s no-”

            My hand reached my pocket. I slipped my hand in and grabbed onto the glass shard that he had given me the day before. My mind crawled into a corner to find comfort, but nothing felt comforting now. My heart reached out for someone to hold me. Chrissy looked at me with her puffy red eyes and reached out.

            “Everything’s gonna be okay,” she whispered with a shaky voice.

            “You should be happy he’s gone now,” Cory said in a satisfied voice.

            I pushed her away and yelled, “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything! How do you know that everything will be okay? No matter what he’s still my father!”

“No. He’s a monster. Fathers aren’t supposed to beat you!” yelled Cory. “They’re supposed to protect you!”

“How are you supposed to know?” I screamed.

I took a step forward and collapsed in her arms.

            “Do you need some-” asked Chrissy.

            “No. I don’t,” I replied.

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that,” apologized Cory.

            “It’s okay,” I said, refusing to look at him.

            “Here.” She offered me a tissue. I took it.

            “Thanks, Chrissy,” I said, as I blew into it.

            “Are you going to be okay?” asked Cory.

            “Maybe. I just got to take it a little slow now.”

 “What are you going to do now? I mean you’re all alone now.”

I turned to Chrissy.

“I don’t know.”

            I held up the shard that Cory gave me and smiled.

Poll #1278144 Behind Every Closed Door

What did you think of this story?

What improvements can I make?

So wat

So wat
if ur late to class
So wat
if ur not here today
So wat
if u miss one fone call
So wat
if you go away

                        Someone cares


Some people will say....
Ur evil
do they even know what evil is?
I know u r questioning my question.
Just think
about the question
          the answer
Don't just think


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April 2009