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Wildpath2701 — Why?
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Published: 2013-02-22 01:40:11 +0000 UTC; Views: 137; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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She used to tuck pens into the waistband of her pants, just so she should take them out and write on her hand . . .
She didn't think much of it. She just had dark thoughts that she wrote, like "Nobody hears you", and "Falling faster than a stone".
Then they came. Saw her clothes, her hair, the writing on her hand, and told her she was crazy.
That hurt her. Deep down it hurt her. She'd never show it though.
The next day she was called weird. She didn't understand. Why do they hate her? What did she ever do to them? Nothing other than the regular sixth grade bickerings.
She didn't let the hurt show.
Her mom told her to stop writing on her hand because of ink poisoning. So she stopped.
That didn't mean the names stopped.
A girl, her friend asked if she wrote to cover up scars. If she cut. It made her want to cry. Even her friends thought she was a freak.
On the bus, they called her emo.
Two months later, it still didn't stop.
She told her friends, but they didn't understand. It was forgotten to them five minutes later.
In Gym, a boy called her fat.
Her brother didn't attempt to help. Of course he didn't. Nobody did.
Still, she didn't let the hurt show.
People told her she was always smiling. Inside, she was dying.
One night, she was lying wide awake thinking about the names.
Crazy.
Emo.
Ugly
Freak.
Weird.
Fat.
Why? Why do they hate her? Slowly, she climbed out of bed, and closed the door to the bathroom, flicking on the light. She gripped the countertop, her hands shaking as she stared at the reflection in the mirror. Is that really her.
Nobody hated her as much as she hated herself.
I give up. She dragged the blade of the scissors across her wrist. I give in.
The white lines had faded the next day. That made her sad.
Thats when she began carrying scissors in the waistline of her pants instead of pens. Tiny white and red scars that nobody saw or cared about.
The names continued though.
They always will.
She scraped her knee falling of a banister. The first thing she heard was laughter.
She walks with her head down, hugging her elbows to herself because she knows that she will fall apart if she doesnt hold herself together.
Her lungs feel a bit more deprived of air everyday. As if the names are suffocating her.
Her friends are just starting to notice.
Her parents say "It happens."
Nobody understands.
They still hate her.
Why?
