She Told Me Not to Worry (SEQUEL to He Told Me Not to Tell) COMPLETE

2

Kenzie's POV

Today, my mom and I are just going to walk around in the mall. I love just walking around and spending time with her, and I love how great our relationship is. I feel like I can tell her anything.

Well, almost anything.

You see, I went through a time of self hate. Yeah, I'm only twelve, but I've had my share of bad experiences. It all started when I was learning about the whole virginity thing, and how if I lose it, it needs to be with the right guy. Most kids my age don't have to worry about that. Normal twelve year olds get to have a choice whether they want to lose it or not, and they usually wait for a while longer. I never had that choice. It was taken from me when I was really little. Now, I know that isn't my fault. My mom's reminded me that many times. I still just hate the fact that something that important was taken away from me, and I couldn't even control it. When I started thinking about it, I felt so disgusting. I didn't want to live with myself anymore.

I tell myself that was just a phase because I didn't really do anything. I had those thoughts, but I never hurt myself. I'm glad that I didn't hurt myself, I feel like my mom would be disappointed.

I can't tell her about how I felt, though. If she knew that I wanted to hurt myself, that I considered it for just one second, I don't know how she'd react. So, I call it another chapter of my life, and I put it behind me. I forget about it.

Except I can't fully forget about it. It's always there, just like everything else from my past. The best I can do is try to ignore it.

But enough about my ranting, I'm ready to spend some time with my mom.

My mom gasps. "Kenzie, look how cute," she squeals at a dress that is way too small for me.

"Mom, I'm not seven anymore."

"I remember when you could fit into something like this," she says, looking at a dress that has a recommended age of three.

"You didn't even know me when I was that young."

"Kenzie, you were the tiniest five year old that I ever saw. You were absolutely adorable." She turns to me and runs her fingers down my hair. "And now you're absolutely gorgeous."

She's lying, an all too familiar voice said. They come back every once in a while. I just have to pretend that I can't hear them.

"Okay, can we get out of the little kid section? People are going to start judging."

"Let them judge," my mom said as she put an arm around my shoulders. "But sure, what do you want to look at?"

"I don't know. Let's just walk," I say, leading my mom out of the children's store. As we walk, we pass by a familiar play area. I remembered when I played with my doll, Becca, with another little girl, Kennedy. I thought I had made my first friend, but I was totally wrong.

I hate that memory, though. I wish I could forget it.

"Hungry yet?" My mom asked, pulling me from my memories. She had a sympathetic look on her face, and she knew what I was thinking about.

"Sure," I said.

She took my hand as we walked. I'm twelve, but I don't think I'll ever start to hate holding my mommy's hand.