Unspoken: The story of Hannah
By Beverly Brown
She always walked home from school and took the long way home. She loved the smell of the fresh afternoon air on breezy days is what she told me when I asked her why she never rode the bus. She was a straight A student and very much into sports until a couple months ago. She walked into gym class and gave the coach a letter that stated she was no longer able to participate in after-school activities. She used to sit with my friends and I at lunch but lately makes an excuse to leave the table with a little black bag and go to the restroom.
With curiosity I followed her in one day and snuck in without her seeing me. She curled up in one corner of a bathroom stall and just sat there. I could hear her softly whimpering and then grab a piece of toilet paper to wipe away any trace of tears. From inside the bathroom stall I was in I could see through a crack when she came out. She walked over to the mirror and pulled her shirt away from her neck. I couldn’t believe my eyes! She was covered in bruises! She reached into her little black bag and pulled out some foundation. She started to touch up the spots so they weren’t so noticeable.
I couldn’t hold back any longer and swung open my bathroom stall door.
“Hannah, are you OK?” I asked frantically.
Startled, she turned around quickly covering up her chest.
“I didn’t know anybody was in here.” She stuttered. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Please, you have to promise me. It will just get worse if you say anything,” she pleaded. A sigh came across her face.
“Who did this to you, Hannah? You have to tell me.”
She put her head down and zipped up her bag. She turned back around facing me.
“My dad,” she said in a light voice. “But I deserved it. I came home late and never called and he was just worried is all. He said it wouldn’t happen again.”
I knew her dad very well. I used to go to her house after school some days shortly after her mom passed away. It wasn’t like her dad at all to do something this tragic. He was always cheering Hannah on to be the best that she can be. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“He just gets upset sometimes, even overwhelmed since mom has been gone. He calls me bad names and hits me but then the next day he tells me he was wrong and buys me a flower. He tells me I will always be his little girl.”
The bell rang which meant we needed to get to our next class. I gave Hannah a hug as she walked out of the restroom. I didn’t know how I was supposed to keep a secret like this. The words she said kept echoing in my mind. “It will just get worse if you say anything.”
I didn’t know what to do but I knew that this was serious. I gathered up my books as the only thing I could do was head to my next class and try to go on with my day.
The next day Hannah didn’t show up at school. I didn’t think too much of it until she was out for the entire week. I was starting to worry. Thoughts were racing in my mind as I was wondering where she could be.
At the end of the day the principal came over the intercom with an announcement. He had asked all of us for our undivided attention. I knew this wasn’t going to be good.
“We have received some horrifying news about a student that attends school here. She was a straight A student, very liked, and a pleasure to be around.” My heart was sinking deeper with every word that he said. “There is no easy way to say this but Hannah, a fifth-grade student is no longer with us but only in spirit. Hannah, has left us with many cherishing memories and a smile not any of us could forget. For those of you that knew Hannah you know that she gave life all she had. She always reached for the stars and never anything less. She will be deeply missed. In Hannah’s honor let’s have a moment of silence and mourn the loss of this very special young girl that we have all grown to love.”
A tear fell down my face and was followed by many more. When the bell rang everybody was talking about it. Nobody knew what was going on but me. If I had told someone instead of keeping this secret that I promised her she would still be alive today. I was scared, angry and confused. But most of all, I was upset.
I will never have the chance to see or talk to her again. I will never have the chance to hear her voice cheering me on during basketball or doing that annoying thing with her nose when she laughed that always drove me crazy. I slowly walked by Hannah’s locker, which was unlocked. I opened up the door and there sat her little black bag with her foundation in it. I took out her bag and closed the door leaning up against it. I clenched her bag tightly to my chest and just cried.
She was in fifth grade and always walked home from school taking the long way, but not anymore.
Although this story is fictional, domestic violence is real and happens all around us. Sometimes it’s silent and other times it can be known it’s going on. It isn’t always physical. It can be emotional and verbal as well. All of which are very damaging to a person. But together, we can help fight against domestic violence.
If you or anyone else is a victim of domestic violence please call the hotline number at 1-800-439-2323. Get help because nobody deserves to go through this.
