Trapped

one

i don't feel like me. this body, it's not me. i can feel it. as i think on these things i slowly drift to the darkness of sleep. i feel trapped and alone.

when i was six, i had some dolls and i would cut their hair so they all would be boys. and of course no one thought anything of it.

when i was ten, i had my first kiss. it was with another girl, i didn't think of it strangely then.

when i was fifteen, i started to feel wrong about myself. i felt trapped. the body i was in wasn't me. i soon developed an eating disorder. and then i discovered self harm. i would cut almost every day and would snap a rubber band on my wrist all the time.

i went to the mall one day and bought every article of male clothing they had. i cut my hair short. i was some what happy with myself, but it didn't last. soon i was bullied badly. i relapsed and my eating disorder was active again.

now at sixteen, i am the worst ive ever been. i cut daily, i hardly eat. i work out quite a bit.

and my mom is pretty suspicious and wouldn't understand if i told her.

i wake to the sound of my alarm, signaling me to shower and get ready for the day. i throw on khakis and a grey long sleeve tshirt with my maroon
Vans. i run downstairs and grab a granola bar and my backpack off the counter and head to my car. i climb in and turn the radio on, Guns For Hands by Twenty One Pilots starts. i sing along but stop because i hate how my voice is.

my mum is pretty religious so i cannot talk to her. the only person i can really tell is Alex.

i arrive at school and walk in to homeroom. i sit down and the teacher starts role call.

"adam stephens"

"here"

"michela rice"

"present"

i know im next...

"caroline smith" i cringe at the mention of the name.

"here" i say quietly...

i recently cut my blonde hair to a short style that's shaved on the sides and a little longer on the top. i really like how it turned out.

i just feel trapped.