My Answer is You

4. Alone Again

Today is going pretty good so far. I made it to school on time, I didn't get in contact with her, and I successfully irritated Ethan and Damian. This is probably going to be the only day, out of my whole life, that I'll have a good school day. And since today is going oddly well, I really wouldn't want to jinx myself.

I'm in the classroom eating my lunch alone, again. It's just like last year. No matter what I do, no matter how good of a student I am, no matter how helpful I am, nobody talks to me. As I'm eating my lunch like the depressed loner I am, the past flows back into my brain. All those things I wanted to forget came back instantly. My head started to hurt when so many horrible scenes played in my head--all the times I was beaten, all the times I was cursed at, all the times I cried to myself, all the times I was alone. Now that I think about, it's always been this way. Even when I was in elementary school, I'd get bullied by the other kids in my class. I had no friends. Everyone hated me and envied me because I was better than them. The girls in my class would bring dolls and share their snacks and lunch with each other. I never tried to join them because when I did, they looked me up and down and decided they did not want to even be seen with me. To them and everyone else, I was an embarrassment. I was a disease that everyone was wary of and kept their distance from.

All throughout middle school, I dealt with Ethan and Damian. They live close to my area, so any chance they got they would leave a note taped on the gates for me to read. And I would read the notes every time, even though I knew the notes would just consist of the same things over and over again. Those two were always there to put me down, even if it wasn't in person. They have no idea how miserable my life is and that I have no need for them to be there to make it worse. And now I've got another thing to deal with, too--I have to deal with the likes of one who doesn't have a hint of mercy in their eyes.

Life is cruel like that, but I gotta say it keeps me out of trouble. You know, it keeps me from having trouble with teachers, the principal, my relatives--yeah, even my own relatives. They're always there to show off their stupid grades as if I don't have better grades. I don't have too many relatives, but a good amount. Family is the best support system, people say. I couldn't disagree more.

But who cares if I do well in school? Who cares if I have a good education? Who cares that I have rich parents and I could live a good life? Who cares if I get a great job because of that? Who cares about me or anything I do? Nobody. Not even me! I don't give two shits about what I want to be when I grow up. I don't care if I get to live luxuriously because I'm rich. Call me ungrateful but I don't care. Call me what you want because it won't affect me. Abuse me for all I care, have your fun in torturing me in this life. You know why? Because it's not like I'll live that long anyway. That's right, I've got plans for those that want nothing to do with me. I've got plans for all those fuckers that want to hurt me. They can have their fun like the devils they all are because what are they gonna do when I'm gone? Who are they gonna beat? Who are they gonna humiliate? Who are they gonna ignore? Who are they gonna name-call? Who are they gonna hate? Who? 

Fucking nobody. 

And I'm gonna make sure all those miserable low-lives in the world that look down at me have nobody to look down at. I'm gonna be gone long before anyone knows it. For all I know, I might be gone before I even know it.

You know what the funny part about it all is? That I hate myself more than anyone could ever hate me.

Hah, and just when I thought my day was going great. Of course my fucking emotions and memories have to slide back in to remind me of everything I tried to forget. Even my own mind and body work against me like that. Everyone has to taunt me, don't they? Everybody has to try their best to make sure I have a miserable life. What did I ever do to them? What did I ever do to myself? Maybe I've done a few things to myself, but that's about it. I never bother anyone. Why does me breathing and existing bother people so much? Because of society I don't even want to breathe or exist--which is also why I do things to myself. But the things I do to myself are nobody's concern, not that anyone would be concerned for me, and whatever I do is what I fucking deserve.

The chain of thoughts my mind formed broke when a dark presence creeps behind me and a hand is placed on my shoulder. I immediately jumped up from my seat--I even let out a small yelp while doing so. How embarrassing, I think to myself. The hand was quickly pulled back and I looked up to see who it was.

When my eyes fell upon the person standing in front of me, my whole world stopped. It felt like the Earth stopped orbiting the Sun for a second, everything was in slow-motion. My heart dropped to pit of my stomach. My breath was taken away and my face was engrossed with shock and fear. My limbs felt like wood--they felt heavy and I couldn't bring myself to change how stiff they were. And my soul felt like it was going to escape my body at any moment.

Standing before me was the person that envied me, that intimidated me, that used me, that deceived me, that terribly beat me.

It was the person I never wanted to see in my life.

It was the person I never wanted to encounter in my life.

It was the person that made me hate myself more than anyone could ever hate me.

It was a monster, maybe even Satan's daughter.

It was her.

Kendra Wilson.