When A Swan Becomes a Crow

The Girl

When A Swan becomes a Crow

Written by: Jasmine Pollock:)

Once there was a girl. But not just any girl, no. A special girl. My soul mate. My world, my life! Or at least that's what I thought. I never actually got a chance to tell her how felt, only be her greatest friend. And in being her greatest friend I watched her fall. Only when she was pushed- and she always got back up. But over time I slowly watched her strength wither away until one day she wouldn't get up. Not because she couldn't-but because she listened to the world say she couldn't. And so she didn't.

Now this girl, she was the most breathtakingly beautiful being God ever created. Every time she spoke angels sang! Her hair was like a river flowing from the top of her head to the middle of her hip, black as the night sky. And those eyes! The darkest shade of blue. Everywhere she went, heads turned. But she never noticed. She never noticed because deep down inside she thought nothing of herself. her will had been shattered, and the ability to love herself had vanished. She was different. Different from her classmates-from the world. Shunned for the way she dressed....for the way she acted. Because her shoes were converse and her clothes were black she was branded "emo". Over time she would only speak to me. A girl who spoke to everyone, hid under a rock and spoke to ONE person. With words from her peers practically begging "kill yourself" she became depressed.

All she wanted was acceptance but instead only got judgment and condemnation. I know what you're probably thinking by now, "What's the point of all this?" Let me remind you I love-loved-this girl. And although you don't remember, you know her. All of you. You all played a part.

Much to my discretion, she became what they called her. She bleed deeply every night until her wrists, thighs, neck, became so familiar to the kiss of a razor her subconscious stopped telling her it hurt. But nobody knew. Nobody knew but me. No one knew her mother left when her dad died. No one knew she was forced to live with her abusive relatives. That the dark, long, baggy clothes and heavy makeup was to cover the bruises and scars. I came to her window every night. No one else heard her crying. "I can't tell them....they won't understand," she said to me one night. Of course not. But then again, they never tried. All they-you-ever did was take the last ounce of light, hope, love, that had ever lived in her heart and you darkened it. Her blue eyes once filled with so much love and joy hardened and became stone. Not even my gaze would she meet. Eventually she stopped going to school. Stopped getting out of bed. Stopped eating. I came home one night to find her tattered body, nothing but skin and bones, unconscious in a pool of bloody water. Fresh wounds on her waist. A new place where it would hurt. She had passed out washing the blood off. I cried. She had forgotten about the stopper. I threw it away. Up until two nights ago I had hope.......the doctors said she would recover. Over time.

Despite my best efforts to tell her how beautiful she was. That I loved her even though she didn't understand how-she never heard anything I said. The word's of others' played over and over in her head. Pictures of her mother. Fresh bruises. Screaming. Crying. Begging!.........pleading.....

Her funeral is today.

So, are you happy now? You all got what you wanted, right? Everything-everyone-is the same. Until someone isn't. Then what? Ah, yes. Of course. The cycle repeats. A never ending song on repeat. Oh! But what's wrong? You're all crying now. Why? You're...sorry? Now....what will that change? You hope I will forgive you?! As I stand here in front of you, wiping away my tears, you ask for my forgiveness? No. You must earn it. Earn it by treating everyone as if they were a beautiful, fragile flower. Loves those flowers. Accept those roses with all their thorns. Cherish the mere fact they exist! Take the time to understand why the cry. Walk in their shoes. Because when a white rose turns black-there's no stopping it. And a life cannot be reborn, when a Swan, becomes a Crow.