The Devil Child

Chapter Three

 Polly didn't want to start classes, not just yet. And, surprisingly, her aunt and uncle didn't want her starting classes either. They found it hard to believe that, after months of being tortured, she could be so fine. That she could be so normal.

Truth was, Polly wasn't normal. There were battles she fought daily, but they were her battles, not anyone else's. So, it made sense to her that she not let anyone in on them. Why would she? There was no need to tell her aunt and uncle about how depressed she really was. There was no point to tell anyone that she hated herself.

How could she not? She'd spent the past nine months suffering because of who she was. Because of who she liked. Not only did she hate herself for liking girls, she hated herself for even living. For even breathing. Her own parents hated her - how could she not be depressed? Her own parents shipped her off to camp so she could be fixed. Her own parents didn't even want her when she got out of camp.

Polly hated herself because she would never be the daughter her parents wanted. She hated herself for being the way she was.

Why couldn't I have been born straight? She asked this every single night. Every single time she had a thought about a girl. About how pretty they were. About how soft their skin looked, and how beautiful their hair looked. She couldn't help it.

She couldn't help how self-conscious she was in front of them. Or how she desperately wanted them to look at her, and notice her. Girls she didn't even know, but wanted to know. There was something messed up with her.

This was how she thought of herself. How her parents thought of her. How Doctor Higgins thought of her. And she accepted it - accepted how much people didn't agree with how she thought.

But on the outside, she was calm. She was fine, she was normal, she was average. She wasn't as messed up as people assumed she would be. She wasn't moody, dramatic, or a bad case of anger issues.

Her aunt and uncle couldn't understand why. They immediately thought she would be a basketcase, which was understandable. She was a basketcase, on the inside. But, that wasn't something she was going to proclaim to the world. Not in any situation would she yell out to the rooftops that she was going insane on the inside.

And she was. She tore herself up. Everytime she felt good about something, she reminded herself how ridiculous she was being. Of course her hair didn't look good today. Of course she wasn't happy today.

Something she planned on moving forward from, but for now, everyday was a goal to get through. And so far, she had done alright.

Her cousin was afraid of her. Jenny was a young girl, and when she looked at Polly, she looked frightened. The first day they met was fine. Jenny was curious, but nothing more, and Polly had gotten the impression that Jenny knew nothing about her.

But it was one night that Polly had woken up from a nightmare, screaming, that Jenny became skittish around her. Jenny had heard everything. Every screech, every wail, every sob. Jenny heard Polly screaming, I am a devil child! I am a devil child! over and over again until her lungs were raw and painful.

Polly couldn't help it; she was in the middle of a nightmare. She couldn't control her actions or her words.

She wanted to make it up to Jenny, but there was no way she was getting close to her younger cousin. The girl looked at Polly like she actually was a devil child.

Sometimes, Polly believed it. Sometimes, Polly actually wondered if she was a devil child, put on this planet to ruin everything.

This didn't mean she stopped trying to create a relationship with her cousin.