As a child I feared the dark. Night was a dreaded time when I laid in bed with nothing but a dull flicker of light peaking out from under a closed door. I slept close to my stuffed animals, afraid that if I didn't the monsters would steal me in my silent sleep. It's quite funny though, how we once feared the dark, but now admire it. Despite me being a nyctophilia, I have shed only one of my childhood fears. The crash of thunder and the slice of lightning is enough to drive me to tears. The smile of a clown still raises the hairs on my back. I still snuggle with a collection of stuffed animals to avoid a run in with my vicious imagination. No one knows this about me. No one has ever asked me, but that's because I'm different. That's because, I'm the girl people tease and call names. Or should I say "whore" since that's just what they normally call me. I'm in the seventh grade, I'm thirteen and I have a boyfriend. But I've been "whore" for a few years now. Actually since I moved back to New Jersey in the fourth grade I've been. I'm not sure why I'm the "whore" but it's gained me a lot of other nicknames like slut, waste, and a few others I don't feel comfortable saying.
It's not like I ever consider myself these things until about fifth grade. I had a rough home life with my mom just getting married to another abusive asshole who had a son which made things super awkward by getting sexual while we were alone. During this time, I felt worthless. I felt like a waste, a slut. By the end of the year I was depressed and over summer I tried to kill myself, but I failed multiple times. Fast forward a year and my mom eventually divorces the ass and we move on with our lives. My mother then starts kemo due to her having cancer, and my grandmother was in and out of the intensive care unit cause she had issues that she had with her heart. Through this I only cried silent tears and bled when no one was looking. I grew hard and used a strong face which caused some kids to fear me at school when really I feared them all. I drew and wrote, but it was all so dark. The things I created caused adults to question my mental health, but in the end no one cared. To this day, I question how much longer I will last?
How much longer will the whore last?
YOU ARE READING
The Confessions Of a Girl Labeled Whore
Teen FictionWe all want to be the cool kids. We all tried to be the cool kids. We all are the cool kids, except for her. She is the outcast, the oddball out. We all are the cool kids, and cool kids don't give mercy. We were the cool kids and we tore her apart...
