Problem Solved by, Sharoya

In a school there's cliques of every sort. And each clique thinks they're the best. All cliques of course think complete different. There's the jocks; all they do is bang each other heads together and slam kids into the lockers, stealing their money; trying to show their strength, that isn't there. Then, there's the anime crew. All they do it draw together and look at everyone else like they're crazy. There's the spicy, conceited people. They have a mirror with them everywhere, and look down upon everyone else. Then comes the American popular girls. They're overly loud and simply wouldn't talk to anyone else. There's the nerds, all they do is homework and extracurricular work, they look down upon people like they're all retarded. There's the fashionistas. All they care for is if their outfit is in season, they dish on all the hottest clothes and look at everyone like they're wearing rags. Then, lastly, there's me, Jayvonna. The girl that doesn't fit into neither one of these clans.

How am I in the middle of each clique? You all may ask. I'm a thick set, coke bottled, brown skin girl with medium length, jet black hair. So I don't cut it to be a cheerleader. I don't always have money to get the best clothes ever, but I do have some nice clothes. I don't wear Karl Lagerfeld blazers or Tommy Hilfiger shirts, but I dress decent for school. I don't cut it for the fashionistas.  I used to think I was at least a little pretty. I wasn't ugly but I wasn't someone to drool over. So I don't cut it for the concerned, mirror loving girls. I have a low set voice and I'm not always out in the open about myself or what I do. So I don't cut it for the popular girls. I get B's and C's on my report card; I never got an A. So I don't cut it for the nerds. I'm not good at drawing and I don't even know anything about Japan or their art, or comics. So I don't cut it for the anime crew. I don't completely fit into the groups perfectly, and that makes me so different, so I'm left friendless and now useless. Now I'm an easy target to pick on. They tell me all sorts of things,

The fashionistas call me, "Ugly girl!"

The jocks say, "Stupid thot!"

Even the nerds shout,"Retarded"

And then the cheerleaders inform me, "No one wants you here! You should just die, and go to hell!"

I couldn't say anything but "Fine! You go first!"

I replied fast, with no feeling and then jetted off, speeding down the hall and bust into the nearest bathroom and ran into the dirtiest compartment of any school, a stall. My heart raced and my hands began to sweat, I balled in tears at her comment and couldn't stop! I try not to let them get to me but that comment, that one killed me. But that would make them happy. They call me this all the time, everyday, it's a series of situations, and I try to stay confident, and ignore them, I really do; but they say it so much, I'm starting to believe it myself. They hate me so much and I hate myself now. I cry myself to sleep every night. And no one knows, no one cares! My parents barely know that I'm alive half the time,they're never proud of anything I do. In their eyes I'll always be a failure, I could never meet their expectations. I don't mean anything to them either. So what would happen, if it all just went away. Everyone would be happy, everyone would be jumping for joy, so why not? Who would care? No one. Jayvonna said to herself as she plopped her body in bed, writing her letter, her suicide letter. She gently wiped the tears away from her eyes as she lifted from her bed. She looked into the mirror, analyzing herself; she wasn't happy with what she saw. She hated what she saw, and she couldn't change it. She paced around the room crying, telling herself how much she needed to do this. For her own happiness and everyone else's. I walked into the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and grabbed the first bottle of pills I saw. I opened it with every force in me, the little left, looking inside! All the names and phrases flashed in my head once again! "Stupid" , "ugly", "retarded", "no one wants you here", and my own; "useless." Her fingers began trembling and her mind going crazy, she whimpered and without a second thought, she spilled the whole bottle of pills in her mouth and swallowed! Then it all went black! I was dead. Alone. But happy. I was in a better place, a safer place, and I didn't have to go through the pain anymore! Kids at school soon realized what they had done. My parents realized what they hadn't done. If only they'd realize a little earlier, maybe I would still be there.