Josie Marie Lewis......a short storie by me

hi guys i havent been in here a while but i wanted to shre with yall a short storie i made please comment and tell me if yall liked it THANX!

*since she is dyslexic in her diary entries I misspelled words*

JOSIE MARIE LEWIS

Courage, yes, Josie definitely had it. Not your typical courage, not your heroic story about a girl who saves her mom or little sister, no, entirely the opposite. Josie Marie Lewis killed herself. "Courage! No that is not courage",you might say, "That is stupidity!” Yet for Josie it was courage plain and simple courage. You see, at school we looked at Josie as the misfit, freak, the loner, loser, and the stupid one. Dyslexic and the intelligence that she lacked acted out as one of the primary reasons why she became the target to many insults at school. Her Looks?! Just imagine, a bony white ash face, pea size eyes, and a parrot peak nose. Deformed many called her, just not normal she was seen. The pink little bow that she would always wear looked hideous on her, but no matter what everyday she wore it. That was the Josie at school, the one whom we all thought knew; but too late did I realize what she went through. We never saw how much we hurt her, and how our insults put her through so much pain. How her dyslexia made her dreams impossible to reach. Sometimes at school she would transform into a spirit, we wouldn’t even acknowledge her, but in her seat she always sat. The one on the corner by the window, where she would glance out and drift to the outside world; where I guess she felt free. Like around February 5th we heard the raspy voice of the principle say," Last night Josie Marie Lewis, unfortunately, shot herself in the head.” Gasps filled the room, tears raced down our cheeks, we could not believe what she had done. We all felt guilty, well at least I did. I wondered if we drove her to such despair that made her kill herself. Soon enough I found out the major reason why she was courageous enough to shoot herself. Nobody from school went to her funeral, embarrassed I guess they felt. My guilt had grown too intense that it forced me to go. Her grandmother and older brother by themselves stood, the only family she seemed to have. When I went to go hug her grandmother, an alcoholic scent aroused me; an alcoholic later did I find out she was. Her grandmother then asked me, “Are you......Well were you, her friend?”, guilty as I felt I replied, “Yes one of her best.” “Here,” she handed me a puny small black book, “Her diary I suppose, keep it.” “Thank you,” I sadly said and without a glance to her brother I quickly left. That night the truth revealed itself to me. Her inner and true emotions were exposed to my consent, her pain, anger,anguish,and sadness that took her to such action. One of her entries still lives in my head, she wrote it a couple days before her death. “February 2nd: Tonight he pid it again. When he thought I was asleeb he came into my room. Frightenep as always I coulp not and pid not move. Like usual he pegan from the pottom. First smoothly massaging my legs, further his hanps went. I coulp not move, I coulp not preath, I coulp not scream, I coulpn’t even oben my eyes; I felt dead. Rougher he went near the tob, feeling my preasts; drawing smooth circles arounp and on them. Pisgust, anger, and hate all of these emotions enterep me, put immovaple I was left. Trabbed in my pody, my own brison. My teppy I strongly help, he feels my bain. I guess he thinks I cant feel it pecause its peen every other night, at the same time 12:05 am that he baints a horrible, bervertep, terrifying, bicture on my pody.” When I read this tears filled my eyes, sobs over took me, desperately my body shook. My guilt felt stronger now and I could not stop reading I had to know what her mind thought. “February 3rd:Granpma has pone it again! Sbent all of our money on peer! We cant bay our pills. I cant pelieve it, that after mommy pied she pecame a brunk. Why pid mommy pie? I still wear the pow she gave me that night. The one with the bink stribes and white hearts, and soft as silk, everypay I wear it on my hair. Beoble at school tell me I’m weird pecause I wear it, put they pon’t unperstanp. It is the only thing left that I have from my mother. She gave it to me that night, the night of the accipent. God I miss her so much. Why pid she get brunk? Why pid she prive? Why pid her car go off that cliff? Why pid she leave me here with them? Why po I have to suffer? Why at school? Why at home? Why?? WHY!!!????Fear stobbep me but my bain bushep me forward; it has won ,I have to bo it. Tomorrow I WILL!! I hobe I can. I'm afraip put I know where the gun hipes. Tonight I will bray to God for the courage to pe aple to take my life away. I cant keeb living like this, my tears fall like on a rainy pay. My granpma is in so much pebt, my prothers hanbs pring me fear and pisgust. At school it coulp only get worse. Kips hate me, my pyslexia and face scare them away. Their worps and insults cut me alive as if my prother wasn’t enough. The courage I WILL get for tomorrow is my pig pay". Wide eyed I was left as I read the last entry with only one sentence it said" February 4th: God answerep my brayers." I could only imagine what she felt, and how strong and scared she must have been to do what she did. Maybe you don’t see it as courage, but I do. To hold a gun to your head and shoot yourself, I know I would most certainly would not be able to do. Never would I find the courage to even hold the gun. Yet Josie found that courage to end her suffering, maybe not the right way but she found it. So whenever I think I cant do something I think of Josie who did the hardest thing anyone can do: Josie Marie Lewis Killed Herself.

omg that was so deep! it does take courage but i wouldnt know im just sayin that was amazing it brought tears to my eyes

thanx im glad u liked it i know what u mean about the tears cuz i was crying as i wrote it lol it was as if i could feel her pain even if i was making it up u know? i have another but i need to edit it and im working on my 3rd one about a girl who is raped
thanx again

luv KiKi

Hey, yeah I though it was good but I have to disagree with your Dyslexia parts. THat is not how a dyslexic person would write, and even though you are trying for this affect, I found words very difficult to decipher what with the p's and b's constantly in the wrong place. You may want to read the work of some dyslexic people, and use that kind of style instead of changing around letters.
Aside from that, wow I really liked it!

Wow. That was so sad. That was a good story. I hope it didn't really happen. Good job on writing it. Thanx for sharing. It really touched me.

ur right i checked that out! thanx i'll fix it on my own copy! :-)

and ur welcome

that's was amazing. i wish i had talent like that. you're a good person for capturing it the way you did. i'm sure you did her justice.

mlkdipd

thanx guys thats really nice