Chain of Pain P. II

           The girls' bathroom was empty as Marilyn thrust back a cubicle door, and flung the remainder of her handwritten invitations into the toilet bowl. She stared down at them, watching them grow soggy, consumed with water. Almost like they were drowning helplessly.

            She hadn't even realized she had started crying until she saw tears falling from her face to the toilet seat. Her hands shook as she fiddled with the clasp of her Chain of Cross. It fell from her neck to the palm of her left hand. She held it there, and remembered all the pain it had brought her. It was the chain's fault that nobody wanted to come to her party.

           Marilyn angrily slammed the handle of the toilet, and the water started to churn her invitations around. She watched them gradually disappear. And then she tossed the gold chain down into the swirling water.

           And just like that, it was gone. Years of torment gone, vanished down the pipes.


           Marilyn was out of tears now. She sat on the toilet lid, her knees under her chin. She didn't know what time it was, but at this stage four different teachers had come in and tried to convince her to come out. She replied to none of them, didn't grace them with any form of communication; not even when it was Ms. Gray.

           It wasn't until Marilyn heard the strong, familiar voice of her dad that she flung open her cubicle door. He swept her into his arms, and she cried a bit more into his shoulder. She didn't even remember being taken home; next thing she knew she was tucked up in her bed, her parents perched on either side of her, stroking her hair and whispering that things were going to be okay.

               I know, thought Marilyn. Everything will be okay now.

The End

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