The First Fifty Pages Of Me by Nailinthewall

Innocence

I used to be naive and full of life. Then I grew up. I learned the things people can do. My siblings, my sisters, treated me like you would any adult when I was as young as five. That's why I seem older than I am.

I learnt about vicious, heinous crimes evil people do from the TV my family watched and the posts they read. I learnt of mental abuse from people of every age and race. I watched bystanders stand by and watch. I was always losing fights and the one who was bruised inside and out. I learnt that some blood was evil and vindictive and stole and that other blood was great. 

I learned to hate, to love, to swear, to stay silent, to fight back and to stay out of battles. My innocence was ripped away, and so was my happiness, at one point.

My friends abandoned me, my peers ignored me, my parents didn't realise I felt bitter towards them, my siblings ripped away my childhood with violence and cruel words, my teachers didn't notice how detached I was or that I was being made into a joke, my relatives stole my vision and my house haunts me with all the things inside it. 

I know this stuff looks simple from the outside but even the sun blinds. I was once the loud person but now all I do is silence my voice.

I lost so much but I gained so much too. I broke but it was just a small crack in the grand scheme of things. I learned to silence my reactions but my face says it all. I was a pariah but I made myself brighter. I remade myself again but the innocence didn't come back. I am grown and my innocence is long gone.