Savanah Garcia
She thought she was a Garcia
She was only just 9 years old when everyone forgot about her.
She's been bullied, gone through a heartache, been kidnaped, has a best friend dealing with cancer, her family has turn their backs on her, wh...
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| Savannah Rodriguez |
Awaking to a pounding on my bedroom door, I had no idea how I had gotten here. The last thing that I remembered of last night, was dozing off in my brothers car, and nothing else. I had no idea how I had gotten here, and I was pretty sure I would have walked here myself.
"Your late!" was all that was shouted at me from the other side of the door, as the person then walked away, all while I laid my head back down on the pillow, not bothered to even remove the blankets from my shoulders. For once in my life, I didn't even care about the fact that I was late, as no one had thought twice about my 14th birthday yesterday.
14 years of being forgotten. There was nothing special about me, but not like that should make me any less of my parents child than I already was. There was no point in saying anything to anyone outside of my family either, because they too, were just like the rest of them. Spoke to me about something, before they then realized I was too boring to keep track of.
---
Standing in the mirror of the family bathroom, I stared at the bruises and scars that were starting to form from two nights ago. Pinching at some of them, I squinted my eyes to try and tell apart the old ones from the new ones. Scattered all over my stomach, there was no space that there wasn't something that hadn't been touched by the hands of my father.
Turning to my side, I saw the stitches my brother had done for me, squeezing my eyes shut at the thought of the person he had been that night, when I had taken the fall for the rest of them. That was the only chance that I had been given to be seen by my own brother, before he had gone back to the person that he was, and always will be.
If he had been here, life would probably be different, but the current life that I was living, was clouding the sparse good memories that we all used to share at some point in our lives. They were sparse and few, but they did not lead me to be standing here, clad in my school uniform, questioning the life that I was living.
I was the only home at the moment, or so I thought I was, so it gave me a moment of peace to think about packing everything up and just walking out the front door, right this minuet. No one would care, only me. I would have to figure out money, but that could be something that I could easily figure out, once I had the courage to walk through the front door and not turn back.
None of my family members would have turned their back on me when they walked out the door, so I could do the same. Maybe it was time to stop being so trauma filled and actually start enjoying life, from a new perspective. Stop crying out for help and being the help that I need, because who needs anyone in life, to be honest.
---
"Your a liar!" a finger was jabbed in my face as I walked in through the front door that evening, having being late to school and having track practice, was not something that I was expecting. I looked at my mother in confusion, unsure of what she was referring to, because last time I checked, I hadn't spoken much to her, and I liked it that way.
