Categories > Original > Drama

Concrete Angel

by Gabi4CSI 0 reviews

If you've ever heard the song, you will know. This is my version of the story behind the song. Tear jerker and violence warnings I'm afraid.

Category: Drama - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2008-10-23 - Updated: 2008-10-23 - 1180 words - Complete

0Unrated
Authors Notes:
I heard this song about a year ago now, but recently found the original video. And it is to that cause that I dedicated this story, based solely on the video, with minimal ‘tweaking’ as it were. - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZLwwy-g2wkc
I strongly advise watching it first, then reading with it playing in the background. Otherwise, you do lose some of the effect. Tear jerker warning.


Concrete Angel
I scuff my toes along the side of the path as I walk, my feet sore in my too-small sandals. Clutched in my hand is a brown paper bag, the half a slice of bread and an orange I filched from the kitchen this morning.
I can see my reflection in a car window as I pass. A thin little girl stares back at me, her filthy dress at least a size too small. It’s the same dress I wear every day, until one day my mother will snatch it in a rage, insisting it is washed. She was in the house when I left, but she never gets up to make me lunch, nor to say goodbye. She locked herself in her room, empty bottles left spread across the kitchen.
I see children stepping out their cars, their own mothers bending down to kiss them goodbye. I keep my eyes on my toes, knowing the comments and taunts that will come my way. It’s the same every day. ‘Smelly Ellie’ is a common one, children holding their noses as I walk past.
Subconsciously I pull down my sleeves as I walk up the stone steps, knowing I have to hide the evidence from my teachers. It’s not Mom’s fault. She’s sick, my dad said. Before he left. I don’t know why he left. Mom said he found someone else, but how could he leave us?
I slip my bag under my desk, knowing that I look like a geek, slipping into the classroom before the bell has even rung. But I don’t mind. Rather be a geek than stand out there alone, waiting for the bell.
My teacher spends hours talking about Math today. The classroom is hot, and before I know it I’ve slipped of my cardigan, in an effort to keep cool. As my teacher walks past, I see her eyes flicker to the bruises on my arms, handprints. Her lips tighten, but she doesn’t say anything. She never does. I feel my cheeks burn, and I slip my arms back into my cardigan, making out that I’m cold. I can’t let her see them. Mom would kill me.
The light is fading as I walk home, sneaking up to my room as quickly as possible. I go through the kitchen on my way up the stairs, and it confirms my worst fears. More bottles than ever line the surfaces, spilling liquid onto the floor. I daren’t stop to try and clear up, she would hear me, and then I’d be in even more trouble.
She always tells me how much trouble I am, I’m a bad girl who deserves to be punished. I never know exactly what I’ve done wrong, and I won’t ever ask. Better to be punished once than twice. I know she asked my dad to take me once. He didn’t want me because I’m such a bad girl. Mom said he wouldn’t know how to take care of me. I don’t think she meant it well.
From my window I can see the lights flickering next door, the neighbours have a little boy in my class at school. We’ve never spoken, me being who I am, but he smiled at me once. Sometimes I sit on the windowsill, hoping he’ll see me again. He hasn’t yet.
I can hear footsteps on the stairs, and before I know it my door has been thrown open. I’m not quick enough to jump to my feet, and she begins screaming at me. The window is still open, and in desperation I glance across at next door. I see one of them pause, their shadow on the window. Then the lights flick off. My last hope gone.
She’s seen I’m not looking at her, and the blows rain down. Over and over till my body is so numb I can hardly feel anything anymore. She reaches for a bat in the corner, and carries on with her assault. Still my body struggles to respond to the blows. I can still hear her screams echoing in my ears, I’m not worth the trouble she goes to, not worth her effort. The words are old now, but they seem distant in my ears. The pain in my body lessens, until finally I can’t feel her fist raining down on me. In front of my eyes everything has gone strangely black, until I can’t see anything at all. It must be over.
~*~
I am standing in front of my house, but it’s dark now. Even so, the whole street seems filled with light, and I realize why. Police cars line the street, their blinking lights almost blinding me. I can feel my body again, but for once it doesn’t hurt. All my bruises seem to have gone.
I see more cop cars appear, neighbours streaming out their houses. I suddenly notice they are all gathering around my house, and the police are going in. I turn, but no one seems to notice me, or hear me call out. I see the boy from next door gazing at my front door, looking straight through me. I see a women come out of my house, pushing a stretcher. A white sheet covers it. For a moment I stifle a cry. My Mom! Then I look closer. It’s too small to be her. For a moment the sheet slips, and for a split second I see the body. My whole body freezes. It’s me.
~*~
I’m standing on the edge of the graveyard, in the shade. A small group of people are standing nearby, and I go towards them. They are staring at a small plaque on the ground. Looking at it, I see the words engraved there.
‘Eleanor Cregg 2000-2008’.I can only stare at it for a moment before my eyes start to water. To my surprise I feel a hand on my shoulder.
Turning, I see a boy behind me. He smiles at me.
“Come on.”
I don’t think, I just follow him up into the woods at the edge of the graveyard. To my surprise, there are other children there. All of them have a special glow about them, something I can’t quite place. They all smile, hugging me. It finally feels right. I am loved.

Authors Notes: sob This song always makes me want to cry, and I felt I had to write the story behind it.
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