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Tears streamed down her face as her eyes trailed over the messages on her phone. The words burned into her retina, to never be forgotten. They were cruel, harsh and true, she thought. The painful messages shook her to her core, not because of the cruelty. They hurt so much because it was exactly what she thought too. She felt worthless, plain, a screw-up. A failure. She thought of all the mistakes she had made this week alone. She’d fought with her mother and brought her to tears. She pushed her little sisters away. While she tried to stay close to her big sister, who wanted nothing to do with her. She had disappointed her friends when she couldn’t come outside to hang. She had talked to the wrong boy. She had angered the wrong girl. Wasn’t there anything she could do right?
Sarah was brought back from her train of thought by incessant knocking. A little confused and dazed she looked up, wondering who it was. Had she been too loud? Had someone heard her cry? She wasn’t ready to talk, to face anyone. All Sarah wanted was to be alone.
When she was alone things were simpler. Calmer. She wouldn’t say they were better, because she still had to listen to her own thoughts and those mirrored the messages she had received today.
“Open up, Sarah,” a voice boomed from the other side of her bedroom door. It was her father, she knew that. She also knew she should get up and let him in, but she couldn’t get her body to move. As if she was frozen, or rooted to her bed. So instead she just looked at the door as her tears continued to fall.
The footsteps let away from the door, silence greeting her again. It was what she wanted right? To be left alone? To wallow? So why did it feel like her heart was breaking a little more with each fading footstep? Perhaps being alone was not what she wanted at all.
Her heart jumped when her fathers heavy footsteps could be heard climbing up those stairs again, walking through the hallway in the direction of her bedroom.
She heard a clinking sound, but couldn’t place it and focussed her attention on the door. It felt as if she was no longer in control of her actions. She couldn’t move, or think or do anything else. All she did was stare as the door opened slowly, her father carefully stepping in with the doorknob in one hand and tools in the other.
Concern clear on his features as he regarded his daughter, sitting on her bed with a tearstained face. He stepped closer, walking around the mess of clothes on the floor and stopped in front of her, kneeling next to the bed. Taking her hand in his, he tried to catch her gaze. But Sarah kept averting her eyes. She couldn’t show him the pain she felt at this moment.
“Sarah, what’s going on?” He asked, his voice soft and gentle.
Sarah just shook her head, unable to explain to him what she was feeling and why. How could she tell him that she was weak, a disappointment, a loser. Where would she even begin? He was expecting more from her and she was failing him, how could he look her in the eyes again once he knew that?
He kept prodding, begging her to talk to him, getting nothing in return. His voice got a pleading tone and she found it harder and harder to ignore his questions. Finally she pushed her phone in his direction, sliding over the dots to unlock it. It opened on the messages immediately.
Her father read them in silence, his face unreadable and seemingly a little paler than before.
“Sarah, ignore them, they’re not worth your time and energy,” he whispered, her hand once again in his and he squeezed it gently. Sarah shook her head and pulled her hand back. How could she ignore them, when they were able to find her everywhere? She wasn’t safe anywhere, not at home or at school. Those girls had full access to her life and she could do nothing to stop them.
“Listen,” he said again, “No, really listen!” His voice firmer now and she turned her head to face him now.
“They don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t know you like I do. You are better than this. Better than them and they know it.” He ranted passionately. He got up from his squatting position and sat down next to Sarah, pulling her into a hug.
“You are funny, smart and talented and they’re trying to snuff that out. Don’t let them.” He whispered and kissed the top of her head, holding her close to him while she cried again. She clung to him like her life depended on it and perhaps it did, because she needed to hear those words. She needed to hear him tell her he still believed in her, that she had not disappointed him. Even if she wasn’t ready to fully believe it, she needed to hear him say it to her. And he did. Her father repeated those words again and again, until she finally stopped crying.
Then he shifted, grasping her face with both hands and making her look him in the eyes.
“Sarah, I love you and this will get better, I promise.”