The story idea isn't mine. Credit goes to a movie called 'Detachment' that I watched and am deeply affected by it.

---------------------------

Emily's palms were sweating. Her whole body was shaking, she was short of breath. Tired, she slumped back to the bleachers in the basket ball court. It was break time but all she wanted was to hide from everyone. 

'Oh look, the fat cow is here!'

'You need to cut down on your food, sweetie, if you want to get anywhere in your life.'

'Yo, big ass! Ya sure you ain't got any health issue?'

The words revolved around her head making her feel nauseous. She was sick of people telling her to loose weight all the time. Its not like she never tried. But it doesn't work. Being 65 kg and  having all her class mates eyeing and insulting her made her feel an outcast all the time. Hence, the lonely recess time. 

Last week, the new substitute teacher Mr. Barth had joined school and he was such a decent man. He had smiled at her and even kicked Stuart out of class after he called Emily a 'diet bitch.'

She finally made her way back to the cafeteria. As she passed the guidance councilor, Mrs. Parker's office, she heard a strangling noise. Emily stopped and peeked inside. Holding her head in her hand, the guidance councilor was sobbing lightly. Mr. Barth was listening to her. Emily neared in.

"I'm just so sick! These children are hopeless. Not even half of them want to go to college. All they do is swear at me when I call them over to my office. They're wasting their life!"

Mr. Barth convinced, "Don't worry--"

"How can I not worry? I am responsible for them. Every day, every day I come here and listen to them shitting their life. I screamed at a girl today, told her she was going nowhere with that attitude. I've crossed the line. I'm just so frustrated!"

Mr. Barth sighed. The sobbing got louder. "It's so easy to be careless. It takes courage to take care, you know. Why don't they understand."

Emily backed away and roamed to the grounds, her head was spinning. She'd always hated Mrs. Parker because she had no solution to Emily's obesity but today she felt different for her. She felt that maybe, that women behind the thick wire-rimmed glasses had a life too. Aside from discussing others about their feelings, the guidance councilor's feeling were hurt too.

The metallic bell rung loudly bringing Emily back to her senses. She entered her campus building again and stumbled, stepping on the foot of a class fellow.

"Hey, watch it! Can't you see, hippo?"

Emily opened her mouth to apologize but back off when she heard his last word. Somebody snickered from her side, "Your sight isn't what you need to loose."

She pressed her eyes shut and tried to move away from these demented people. Even through the rush of students going in and out of corridor, Emily made a run. As she sped, a voice reached her ears. "You sure you can handle that much running?!"

Emily prepped herself not to tear up even though it was the only thing she wanted to do. Finally her chunky legs halted near the staff room. Loud, hateful screaming could be heard. She got hold of the situation quickly. A student's mother was inside, swearing at their Math teacher for suspending her child in charge of misconduct and bad language inside class room. The math teacher was shaking like she was about to cry any moment.

Emily decided she didn't want to hear this. It was clear that how misinformed these parents were about their children. Instead of scolding them, they were here to threat the teachers.

Silently, she wished she had a parent like that. A mother to stand for her, even for the things she did wrong.

Emily tilted her head to scrutinize her sketching. It looked fine. She was working on a new face today, a face very similar to her latest crush, Mr. Barth. He was the only person in her life who was kind to her.  Recently he has been teaching them stuff like 'self-love' and she had an idea it was specifically for her. Sometimes she felt better about herself after coming out of his class. Like she could make a difference too. She smiled and leaned in to sharpen the upright nose with her led pencil. If there was one thing she was good at, it was sketching and that was literally the only thing she was proud of. 

The door clicked open, revealing the face of her father, the only family she had. He rolled his eyes looking around the room, littered with paintings, a disarray of pencils and white papers and sketching of god knows what. "Can't you paint something else? Something cheerful?" He spat. 

Emily ignored him. 

"I don't come home from work everyday to see these dead, shitty people you like to draw. It makes me want to throw up, leave this place and never come again. Add some color, some life into it." Emily glanced at him wanting to say 'I draw what I feel like, Dad' but stopped. 

He examined a sketch on the wall. It was the picture of a dying wilted flower, a rose, on a cracked piece of land however all the other flowers around it were upright and healthy. "Now look, why do you paint such depressing things! I'm getting sick of your habits. You have such an ill mind!"

"If you didn't waste your time in this piece of garbage and focused on improving your--" He eyed her with disgust--"your self, maybe things will work out."

Emily's lips was shaking but she didn't turn around until he left the room and she could hear the engine ignition indicating he was going out. A loud sob emitted her mouth. She grabbed all the sketching on her walls and threw them off on the floor. She tore apart the sketches. Lowering to the ground, she laid there feeling tired. How could a father be so cruel? How could he degrade the only thing she was fond of doing?

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate all of you!" She screamed. She hated herself for having no friends, she hated herself for not being up to everyone's expectations, she hated the fat attached to her hands, the fat on her legs. she hated her belly. She hated being an unknown person. For not being beautiful like all the other girls. She hated for having such a pitiful and dreary life. There is no such a thing as self-love, she thought bitterly. It's rubbish talk.

Emily looked at the mirror with swollen red eyes, "I hate you."

With a large breath, Emily knocked on the class room door. Stepping inside, she found Mr. Barth smiling at her. He was working in an empty classroom after off-time. "Hey Emily, how'r you doing?"

She fidgeted with her clothes and neared in. Her heart was beating fast. "I made something for you."

He put down the pen. "Yes?"

Nervously, she took out the sketch from her bag and handed it to him. Mr. Barth examined it for a second and his face broke out in a smile. "This is very nice, Emily. I really like it."

"You do?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Is that how you see me though? I don't look very happy here."

Emily looked down. "I've watched you around the school, Mr. Barth. You're always very sad and . . . you're having a very hard time. Like you're going through something painful . . . like you need someone to talk to."

When she looked up at him, he had a concerned expression in his eyes. Whenever he looked at her like that, Emily felt like he could really see her from inside, all her insecurities, all her impossible wishes, all of her woes. "Do you need someone to talk to, Emily?"

She nodded lightly. He stood up from his chair, his tall height dominating over her bulky body. "Do you want to go see Mrs. Parker?"

A blast of rage hit her. "Oh my god, don't push me to the guidance counselor!" Her eyes were becoming teary. They were burning.

"I'm not. I'm not." He leaned against the black board. "What can I do?"

She continued in her shaky voice. "It's like what you said the other day. We're born into this. there's nothing left, nothing but to realize how fucked up we are." She sobbed quietly. "It's not enough. I won't last."

Mr. Barth looked on the ground. "Listen to me. Just listen. We're all the same." 

Emily glanced at him with teary eyes. Her mind was running different images . . . Mrs. Parker in her office that day . . . her math teacher putting up a brave face in the staff room . . . Mr. Barth, always looking like his life was falling apart. "We all feel the pain. We all have chaos in our lives. It's very, very confusing, I know. Nobody has the answers but I know if you just write it down or . . ." he pointed at his sketch on table. "or paint it, it'll be okay."

Emily stayed quiet. His words were like a band aid to her. They always were that way. "Mr. Barth, do you like me?" She asked it before she could stop herself.

"Yes, of course I do." He replied.

His eyes were staring into her soul, as if reading all the misery she was going through. When he listened to her, he made her feel like the most important person in the world. Like she had some significance too. He felt like someone who understood Emily. He was her mentor, someone she thought she could rely on even though she had met him less than a month ago. She couldn't stop herself, an abrupt volcano of emotions and tears burst inside her. She leaned in to lay her head on his shoulder.

She knew this was inappropriate, especially with a teacher in an empty classroom. But so were all the things that happen to her everyday. She liked him, that's all Emily knew.

He was hesitant and very surprised as Emily grabbed the side of his arms and broke down into tears. Mr. Barth pushed on her shoulders. "Emily." He, too wants me to stay away. "No, no. Please, please!" She cried out.

"It'll be okay--" He tried to convince.

"Don't push me away. Please!" She begged him shamelessly. She was desperate for a hug, for someone to shower her with care and appreciation. With love. "Please just hold on to me."

"Everything is okay. It will be--" His voice was shaking now too. Just then, the door opened. Miss Amelia came in, the most beautiful teacher in the entire staff, a shocked expression on her face. "What is going on?"

Emily looked at the two coffees she was holding and things started making sense to her. She wasn't the one supposed to be here. "No, no." she muttered, looked at Mr.Barth's confused expression, grabbed her bag started to leave with a broken heart. 

"Emily! Emily wait." She could hear Mr. Barth calling after her but Emily knew no more. He was the only person she had looked up to. But nobody wanted to do anything to do with her. That was the reality. Not her father, not her class mates, not even Mr. Barth.

She banged her head on the locker, tears streaming down her face. This was her last straw.

It's been a week since she'd been to school but today she showed up. Yet, she still didn't attend classes. It was the bake sale today and Emily had signed up for it since a long time so she had baked around fifty cupcakes. All garnished with a white base and a smiley face made of chocolate. She set up her table, decorated it and placed all the cupcakes. Today she came with a plan.
Not a plan though, probably a solution.

It's been an hour since the students were roaming around all the stalls but nobody even looked at her. Her cupcakes were untouched and sat there just staring at everyone, enjoying and laughing, like she was. Were they allergic to her or something? Did they believe eating her cupcakes would make them weigh 65 kg too?

But Emily wasn't so affected now. She was immune to it.

She noticed a group of teachers entering. Her eyes darted towards Mr. Barth with his usual nonchalant face but she tore away her gaze as she spotted him coming this way.

"Hi Emily." He made his way with uncertain, short steps.

"Hi."

"I haven't seen you in class lately." He folded his arms. "Where have you been?"

She shrugged. "Baking."

"Hmm..." He gazed at her cupcakes. "Well, I'm happy I get to see you. You know, it's my last day here."

"How ironic."

"Listen, I--uh--I was thinking." His hand rummaged inside his shoulder strapped bag. "I bought this for myself but maybe you could make better use of it." He handed her a sleek, leather bound diary. She took it quietly and set it down aside. He was still looking at her that way, like he was trying to figure her out. Don't worry, Mr. Barth, I've figured out my life already.

He looked away and pointed at a single cupcake lying away from the rest of the other ones she had put up for sale. It was made of dark frosting and a sad smiley face on it. "I like that one the best."

"Well, you can't have it.  That one's for me."

She picked her regular happy-faced cup cake. "But you can have this one. It's better for you anyway."

"Thanks." He nodded. After a minute of contemplation, he added, "I'm sorry, Emily. If I've hurt you in any way. I am . . . " He did look sorry though. and she knew she had acted like a child that day but somethings just can't be reversed, can't be forgotten. They leave a mark on you.

"I know its tough right now for you. But its not always gonna be this bad---"

"Good bye, Mr. Barth."

He sighed and gave her a sad smile. "Good bye, Emily."

And he walked away.

Emily took deep breaths. She looked at his back and how he never made his way to anybody's stall. Just stood in one corner, nibbled at her cupcake watching her silently. She gulped, hastily picked up her brown sad-faced cupcake and bit into it. She faced Mr. Barth again. He was still observing her.

She took many bites, one after the other. A little scared but otherwise, firm in her decision. Now he was frowning deeply. He had discovered the small piece of paper attached beneath his cupcake. Suddenly he decided to come in her direction again and that is when she finally started feeling nauseous.

Her gaze fell on everyone around her. All the kids who made fun of her, bullied her to extremes. How they joking around, unaware of the torture they put her through. The teachers who were never interested in her. The principal, making polite conversation with the school's director. Everybody busy, no one seeing poor, fat old Emily. A wave of unconsciousness hit her harder this time and she crashed on her own stall bringing it down with her.

Everybody stopped, and turned to her. Only Mr. Barth ran towards her. Blood came out from everywhere. Her nostrils , her mouth. Thick sticky blood of worthless Emily fell everywhere, staining everything. She coughed and coughed. the pain in her chest was insufferable. But it was better than the pain she was destined to feel her whole life, every day.

Mr. Barth was on his knees now. He pushed aside her hair, screamed her name. He was frantic, his hands were full of blood but he kept trying to attempt CPR on her. Doesn't he know the problem wasn't with the heart. It was her entire existence.

Which she had decided to end today. Nobody would remember her anyway. And just like a wilting flower, she writhed on the ground in pain. All other kids beside her were healthy and upright.

"It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay." His eyes were glistening.
Emily smiled lightly until her eyes drooped low and breathing become shallow. Until it stopped.

'We have such a responsibility to guide our young so that they don't end up falling apart, falling by the way side. Becoming insignificant.
We're failing. Failing in a sense that we've let everyone down. Including ourselves.'

-Mr. Barth