"You make yourself seem like the victim when in reality you're just mad at the world!" She seethed. "Stop acting like an idiot." Her words stung worse than any other time she had laid her hand on me. "Why don't you grow up and act your age! Not even I acted like this when I was your age! I don't see how anything you could be going through could make you act like this! There are people who have it worse out there and you're acting like your life is horrible! just grow up already!" I stood there shocked at her words. She was horribly wrong. I wasn't mad at the world or anyone but myself. I was mad at the way I turned out to be. I fell silent and stood there as she stormed out of the room. I walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind me as I began to break down. I sunk to my knees and started crying. My tears blurred my vision as small sobs escaped my lips. I was alone. I was hoping I'd get my mom's support from all this crap I had on my chest. But why was I so stupid to trust her. She was never there for me. I did everything on my own even when I was little.
After half an hour of crying I slipped out of my clothes and turned the water on for the shower to heat up. I stood in front of the mirror naked. I hated seeing myself. My long brown hair went down to the middle of my back. My brown eyes were filled with pain as I absorbed my features. My eyes had bags from several years of insomnia. My face looked pale because of the lack of exposure of sad. My nose was noticeably crooked to where I hated people for pointing it out. My cheeks were chubby. My lips were small and chapped from taking the skin off. My waist was small and my hips were wide. My ribs stuck out at uneven angles despite being average sized. I hated it. Tears escaped my eyes and I ripped my eyes from my reflection. I opened the shower door and stepped inside. The cold water seemed to numb the pain that I was feeling. I ran my fingers through my hair and let my emotions take over. The sound of the shower masked my sobs. The feeling of the water hitting my face mixed with the tears that escaped my eyes. Every shower was the same. Turn on the shower. Hating myself for looking in the mirror and seeing my imperfections. Stepping into the shower and sobbing for half an hour. The process repeated itself every day. And with each day I was asked the same question by everyone. "Why are your eyes red and puffy?" And my response was always the same lie over and over again.
"I got soap in my eye when I was washing my hair." They'd laugh and sarcastically respond.
"Idiot."
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body and walked to my room. I shut the door behind me and connected my ipod to my speakers. Music played loudly through the speakers as I grabbed my pajama pants and long sleeved t-shirt. I pulled them over me and noticed the tears rolling down my cheeks again. "Not now..." I sunk down to my knees once again only this time I hugged my body. My sobs wracked my body as the tears poured out. A rush of emotions hit me like a ton of bricks. Depression. Anger. Sadness. Despair. But most of all. Anxiety. I laid there curled up into a ball crying hoping someone would come and save me from this torture. But nobody ever did. No one was ever there. I was alone and I always would be. Anxiety attacks were a daily thing and left me fearing when the next would happen. The only lucky part about them was they'd happen when I was isolated or when I was behind closed doors.
After my anxiety attack passed I'd open my eyes to see a box cutter in my hand and my wrists stinging. I dropped the box cutter and cried even more. I threw the box cutter in my drawer and pulled my sleeves down as I heard a knock on the door. "Hurry up Lilah! You have to eat and go to sleep!" I stood up and balanced myself as I wiped my tears and blew my nose on a tissue. I'd take several deep breaths before opening the door. As I opened the door I looked to see my sister sitting at the table eating while she faced the opposite direction. I walked past her and looked forward avoiding anyone's contact. I grabbed the plate of food that was waiting for me and looked around before putting more than half of the food back in the pot. I didn't feel hungry. I walked to the table and forced myself to eat the small portion that was on my plate. I didn't bother to make any eye contact with anyone as my mom and dad walked into the kitchen. My mom was the one who finally broke the silence."Lilah you had more food than that on your plate."
"I ate it." I lied.
"Okay. Just make sure you eat everything. You need the weight."
"Okay..."
"I'm being serious. Come over here I'll serve you some more."
"No."
"I'm not asking you so get over here so I can serve you more. Don't think I'm stupid. I know you've been eating less." I gulped as she said that.
"I've been eating just fine so leave me alone."
"No."
"I'm going to bed."
"Lilah."
"Night."
"Lilah!"
"I said I'm going to bed." I stood up and dropped my plate into the dishwasher. I walked towards my room but before I could even make it there a hand grabbed my stinging wrist.
"Are you stupid!?" She spat. "I told you you're gonna eat because you haven't been eating well recently."
"I said I wasn't hungry okay. Just leave me alone. I'm tired and I wanna go to sleep already." I yanked my arm from her grasp which made her angrier.
"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you! You act like you're mad at everything and you treat everyone like they're a villain in your life. Quit acting like a brat and get over whatever phase you're going through!" I stood there with a blank expression and shrugged. "Get out of my sight! I don't even wanna deal with you right now!" I turned around and walked to my room shutting the door behind me.
She really had no idea what I was going through. To her it was just a phase. It angered her when I acted the way I would. But what she didn't know or understand was how I became that way. But of course she wouldn't because I never told anyone. I trusted no one. I had been betrayed in the the past for trusting and I certainly wasn't gonna do it again.
It all started in elementary. The changing of schools. The changing of bullies. Always being the new kid. Never settling into one school for too long. New friends every time. New classmates. And more fights. Children are cruel. I was the shy type who spoke to no one because I was always the outcast. Everyone knew each other whereas I didn't. My classmates had their cliques. They knew who to sit next to, who to play with, who to talk to, and who not to mess with. I was always the oddball out that knew no one. I was skinny, small, pale, shy, quiet, artistic and fragile looking. That was the perfect combination that every bully looked for. The shy nerd who kept to himself/herself. That was me. Which made me a target for the local bullies. In my second elementary school I experienced this. I still remember sitting in a crowded lunch table between two older kids. I was scared. They laughed at me and one of them set their hand on my leg slightly raising my skirt. I left to the bathroom quickly to get out of the situation. I never told anyone about it. In my 3rd elementary school I remember being announced as the new kid in class. I stood there in front of curious children as they observed me. I walked to my seat and pulled out a piece of paper. I vaguely remember drawing and feeling pairs of eyes on my shoulders. "Man I can draw better than that!" I ignored the voice and kept drawing. "This sucks." I set my pencil down and put the paper away in my bag. The pairs of eyes disappeared but later on in recess I was approached by two boys. "You think you're better than us because you can draw?" I was shoved and nearly fell in the process. I stood there in silence as the boy turned and walked away. I hadn't even muttered a single word to him but he already had it out for me. His behavior continued for the rest of the year until I had finally grew tired of it. After lunch we were taken outside near the bus loop and left to play. I was approached by the same bully. He shoved me and kept pestering me. "Haha you're so short and skinny." It was the last straw when he pushed me again. Anger boiled inside me and I shoved him as hard as I could. He fell flat on his back and I walked over to him and kicked him in between his legs.
"Leave me alone!" But that didn't stop anything. This continued on after I had left and finally settled into my 4th elementary school. Unfortunately he enrolled into the same elementary. He was assigned to a different teacher but towards the middle of the year I was transferred to a different classroom and so was he. We ended up in the same classroom. The bullying continued as he paired up with another boy his age. They both did anything they could to make my life miserable. I defended myself when it was necessary but I was growing tired of it. Their hits hurt only temporarily but it was their cruel words that stuck. I was an outcast. The words that would later on go to haunt me in my teenage years.
"What's wrong?" I snapped out of my thinking and looked at my friend's expression.
"Nothing. I'm just tired." I lied. It was becoming a habit to lie when it came to that question.
"Oh okay." That respond always relaxed the tension. They shrugged and dismissed the matter. But I'd be left with a feeling of guilt for lying so easily about the state I was in. Truth was...I was falling apart and wanted to disappear without anyone noticing.
