ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ

to perceive me

june 17

party lights and booming music, the way everyone's voice began to swirl together inside of my head, forcing its way into the crevices of my nerves, simply antagonizing me every second i remained in this house.

i didn't know how i was so bad of a person to be dreading something so kindly made for me.
perhaps because i am not the best person, not the type to be around a big group of people i've known since the first grade.
everyone in this room knew how i was, knew that i hurt them in so many different ways, and for such stupid reasons.

with that being said i know every single one of these people here are cameron friends, forced to come because she begged them to for my sake.
i didn't want to do anything for my seventeenth, didn't want a party, didn't want people i knew hated me to be telling me happy birthday.
it was sickening, made me think of everything i did wrong throughout my life.

i mean, i've known these people since i was just a child, they've perceived me, and so have their parents.
i know of the words they do not speak to my face.

called me weird, a druggie, "troubled."

and because i know of the things they say, i'm tearing around this enormous house on the top of beverly hills in search of cameron to put an end to everything.

i search the entire house before stumbling across her outside, swimming with her friends in the pool.
awkwardly, i cross my arms as i wait for her to swim over to me at the edge of the pool.
she looked so gorgeous, she practically glistened in the outdoor party lights, her golden hair trailing after her.

"what's up" she finally says.

"i'm leaving," i say, pushing my hair behind my ear, "left all my shit at home, so."
she furrows her eyebrows, fluttering her eyelashes in such a manner i could never possess "what stuff? and we haven't even sung happy birthday yet?"

cameron didn't quite know about my harsh addiction to drugs and things that "aren't good for a growing teenage girl."
all she knew was the things i took were— "only for emergencies."

"drugs" i whisper as if no one in the room knew of my situation. cameron throws her head back "this is the third time this week! you said they were only for emergencies."

her kind heart couldn't bear to see me like this, as she's told me millions of times but i disregard her statement "cam, look okay, i'm leaving because you're friends are driving me insane."

i watch her frown as she pushes her wet hair from her face "well okay, i'll see you soon?"

i shrug watching her eyes avert to behind me as she parts her mouth, but before she could even say a word my back is shoved and water is invading my nose as if i'm a child again, forcing myself to see how bad it would be to drown.

i have no idea who just shoved me, but even from under the water i have been so kindly forced into, i can hear their loud obnoxious laugh, making its way inside of my head.
as i come up, my once-straightened hair has curled up, hanging in front of my face as water drips from every part of me.

"what the hell" i yell, visibly angry, yet no one seemed to notice or even care. the boy laughs again, everyone's laughing, telling me to take a joke, to calm down— even cameron.

how is it that at the end of everything, someone is telling me what to do? me how to feel?
i feel sick, so sick i might throw up. i storm off, as all i hear are laughs beginning to tell me i'm nothing as my head creates things i don't want to hear or see.

the tears prick inside of my sorry little eyes, beginning to fall down my sorry little cheeks.
my throat tightens at these sudden emotions, the millions of laughs, the millions of words, blocking my airway, making me trip on nothing but the air in front of me.

someone grabs me abruptly. maybe they were trying to help me, trying to actually see me as a person but my brain couldn't comprehend such a thing like that.
before this mystery person could even pull me from the ground i am pushing them, making them fall into the blood-drawing concrete.

"what the fucks wrong with you? i was just trying to help," they exclaimed, hands bleeding from the impact.

i peer down at the girl, whose anger seemed to not even be on her bloody hands, but on the fact that somehow i had broken her camera.
"didn't need it" was all i said before disappearing down a street unknown to me.
-
when i step foot into my house, i am shivering, cold and tired.
i think i've walked over three hours, my legs burn and they ache in a way all too familiar to me.
my sister, who's been waiting up for me out of instinct immediately approaches me wrapping a blanket around my shaking body.

"what happened," she says, walking me up the steps. the steps hurt my legs more as things keep pushing me, throwing me against the wall right through avery.
she doesn't notice, she only moves my hair out of my face and kisses my cheek.

her touch is greatly appreciated, yet the only thing i feel is him. everything so vivid, everything pulling at me and burning my bruised skin.
"take off your clothes," she says "i'm gonna run you a bath."

but as much as i wanted to rip these wet clothes from my body, i couldn't. the things we're watching me, they were judging me, looking at me with their big black eyes.
they're telling me i'm unworthy, unlovable, unattractive. i don't want them to see me, to perceive me.

"i can't" i whisper, my body feeling weak.
i just want to rest, to make my head stop thinking of everything wrong about me.

my sister hums, completely oblivious to the things staring me down.
"ivy," she says, "take off your clothes, you're going to get sick."

i obliged, despite the room practically eating me whole.

how could the walls be talking? the sink, the mirror, the drawers, and cabinets— every single individual tile, how could they be speaking to me?
how could they be telling me how much of a complete pain in the ass i was? a burden?

how could they be able to perceive me, and who i chose to be?

1122 words