Disclaimer: The lyrics used below are Martina McBride's Concrete Angel and are not mine.


Concrete Angel

Packing my book bag up, I looked around my dorm room, where I've hid for months before and after classes. I have the highest grades in the school, at Middleton Private School, and all of my teachers "enjoy my being in their class". I'm Charity Ford.

The pain is almost unbearable. Everyone seems to rely on me for everything. I can't take it anymore. Everyone is supposed to wear the school uniform, but since no one enforces the dress code, everyone is mostly in jeans and t-shirts. I still keep the uniform, though, because the long-sleeved starched white shirt covers my marked, scarred wrists. No one knows my secret, and even if someone did find out, they wouldn't believe me.

She walks to school with the lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with linen and lace

My teachers always give me looks, like they're worried about me.Professor McGovern, my math teacher, seems the most worried, always staring at me. I know because I can always feel her eyes digging into my back in the halls. I've lost some weight, but it's because I don't eat nearly as much as I should, usually an apple for breakfast and a roll for dinner. I doubt anyone's guessed that I bear any pain yet. They've never really cared about me. I keep a faked smile on my face, though, just in case. I wish sometimes that I never came to Middleton, that I was never at the top of my grade. That I was never born and a burden to my parents.

The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born

I've kept my cool all these years, through all the insults, the staring, and the secret whispers behind my back all the time. I can't seem to hold my grades up much longer. I may not have let them drop too far, but I'm still near the top from what I know. I dream of a good future for myself, which helps to lift my spirits, but not for very long. At least while I'm fantasizing, I feel more love than while in this place I often call hell.

Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel

Realizing my time had come, I dug the blade deeper into my skin than before. As I hit a vein, I let out a small scream. At least having my own bedroom off the main bedroom is a plus to living here.

Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights

I heard Ford scream. Only the best students were put together in this dorm. After Charity, I have the next highest average. The name's Polly Murray. Well, I didn't hear anything after she screamed, and everyone was already in bed, so I headed upstairs to my room. I figured she was fine, and just dropped something. But since we've never been the best of friends, I guess I'll never quite understand her.

A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late

Ford always seemed to be the strong type.. She never burst into tears because of one of my insults, so I guess that's why I kind of respect her, in a way. She always seems content while reading, happier than in class and at meals. It's then that she uses a fake smile. Believe me, I know.

Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel

The following morning, she wasn't at breakfast or lunch, or at her morning classes.Virginia Mahar, one of her few friends, who's in the grade below us, asked me to check on her for her, sinceshe can't get into our dorm building. Professor McGovern asked me to do the same after our math class that afternoon. I let them into the building and our living room. The other girls were gone for the afternoon. I told them to wait here while I checked. I ran up to her door, knocked, and pushed it open. I never in my life expected to see her lying on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood, and bluer than the dark blue petals of a pansy. I motioned for the others to come up and see. They took it better than I expected.

Headmaster Dudgeon set up a grave outside, under Charity's favorite tree. The whole student body, as well as her parents, came to the funeral on the warm, spring weekend day, a few days after her death. Many tears were shed. The name on the tombstone stuck out like a sore thumb and was unmistakable for any other students. I guess her heart had been broken by those she loved most. I for one won't ever forget her, unlike many others who will.

A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot

Everyone thought she was strong. Boy, were we all wrong. She showed no negative emotion; only positive facades were placed upon her face. But I guess books were her only escape, letting her be released for this horrible world and her horrible feelings. They lifted her up to a place where everyone is loved. Even if things were hard here, most loved her without her even knowing it. She'll still always be our role model, even if she did screw her life up big time.

Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel