ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
My name is Andrea Brown and I'm an 18 year old high school senior from Albuquerque, New Mexico. I'm going off to college soon where I plan to major in creative writing. Writing has been a passion of mine for as far back as I can remember. My ultimate goal is to become a screenwriter, but I want my short stories to take off a bit more before I begin developing any major scripts. [March 2002]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (3) False Accusations (Short Stories) Something's wrong in Sandra Richardson's life, but she just can't figure out what's going on. Will she get the help needed to uncover the truth before it's too late? [1,304 words] [Suspense] Love That Never Dies (Short Stories) Daniel Jackson lives with his father. Both are having a great deal of trouble overcoming a tragedy that occured a few years prior, and neither of them knows how to deal with it. If they don't find a... [1,273 words] [Relationships] Qualities Of A Friend (Short Stories) John Denton, a high school sophomore, is excited to learn about the new neighbor his age moving in next door. John likes him, and wants to be his friend, but how will his old friends take it? [844 words] [Teenage]
Scars On Scarlet Andrea Diane Brown
“Class, we have a new student today her name is Scarlet Hunter. “I know you will all make her feel welcome, Take a seat over there Scarlet.”
I went over to my seat and shakingly sat down. Already the students in the class were looking at me funny, and I knew exactly why. It was 32 degrees outside and everyone in the class was in tank tops, T-shirts, shorts, and capris. And here I was in my sweater and sweat pants. I was hiding the self inflicted wounds which plagued my arms, legs and stomach. My name is Scarlet Hunter and I’m a cutter. I’ve been a cutter since I was 12 years old, I'm 16 now. I’ve been cutting on and off for four years. I f something happened in my life, which was rare I would stop cutting myself for awhile. Whenever something bad happened I would go right back to cutting again. I can’t explain it. It's a sick way of relieving myself. It’s like a drug, I can’t stop.
“Scarlet, excuse me Miss Hunter.”
“Um, what?” I answered, I was so distracted by my own thoughts I wasn’t paying attention to what my math teacher was saying.
“ Do you know what polynomials are?”
“ Um, no” I said,
“Well then I suggest you come back to planet earth and start paying more attention in class.”
I heard some snickering and laughter behind me, but I didn’t care. This is my third high school I’m attending. My Mom has trouble keeping jobs so we move constantly.
Lunch period finally arrived, and as usual I sat alone. There was no point in me trying to make friends when I’ll probably would end up moving again in a few months.
“Can we sit here” I heard someone ask. I looked up and saw two girls that had been in my math class.
“Sure” I said quietly.
“My name is Olivia.” one girl said, she had big blue eyes and bleached blonde hair.
“Hi, I’m Jennifer.” the other girl said, she had big curly black hair and light brown eyes.
“Hi” I said shyly, I wasn’t really in the mood for company.
“Aren’t you hot wearing that?” Olivia asked.
“No” I was getting nervous now. They looked at me strangely.
“So where do you live?” Jennifer asked.
I bit my lip and looked down.
“ I live in a trailer park on the other side of town.” I wasn’t going to lie to them my mom and I were poor we’ve always lived in trailers.
“You live in a trailer. That is so gross” Jennifer yelled.
“Well we’re sorry we wasted your time Scarlet, but we can’t be seen talking to uh, trailer trash.” They both got up and walked away laughing. Tears stung my eyes, I got up and ran to the bathroom.
I sat in the stall crying. Is this how things are always going to be? Am I always going to be depressed and made fun of for the rest of my life.? I took out my pocket knife which I always carry around with me. I began making tiny incisions on my upper arm. I started bleeding, and it felt as if my problems were easing with every drop of blood. I began cutting deeper, re-opening old wounds. It was if I was in some kind of trance I wasn’t thinking I just kept cutting. When I finally stopped I was covered in blood. Blood was dripping from my wounds all over the stall. I heard a group of girls come into the bathroom. My wounds wouldn’t stop bleeding, I tried to quickly wipe up the blood around the stall.
“Oh my God, look at all that blood.” I heard one girl say.
“Hello what are you doing in there?”
“Nothing” I said panicking.
“Your lying! Open this door they screamed.
Anxiety swept over me my heart was racing. I just sat there my body turning numb, my wounds still bleeding, my vision turned blurry.
I blacked out.
It's been two months since that dreadful day at school. I was admitted to a Psychiatric Hospital for teenagers. I don’t know when I’ll be coming out. Being in this hospital has helped me in more ways then I can imagine. I’ve met other teenagers who have been through what I have and even worse. They’re my inspiration, and my light when I find myself surrounded by darkness. Being here has helped me repair myself emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. I used to think that cutting was the only way to solve my problems, but I was only hurting myself and slowly killing my spirit. And although I regret what happened at school that day I am somewhat grateful for it. Coming to this hospital was the best thing that could happen to me. I am slowly but surely on my way to recovery.
My name is Scarlet Hunter and I’m a survivor.
READER'S REVIEWS (3) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"good luck scarlet. while not a cheerful story, I was glad to read about your ordeal with cutting and how you escaped the dark hole. keep it up!" -- sunny, DC, USA.
"I am Andrea Diane Brown and I am the author of the first three stories, but I did not write "Scars on Scarlet"....what happened?????" -- Andrea.
"Hola Espero que podamos contactarnos muchos saludos" -- Julio Cesar Gutierrez A., Peru, Lima, Lima.
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