The Hurt and The Forgotten

Threatened

That night I did something terrible, and I felt awful about it.

Mrs McCenzie, well she wasn't the most sympathetic towards what I'd done, but I suppose it was mostly out of shock.

A few days later, she took me to see the GP.
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So what's the problem Amelia" His structured face looked me over as if he was judging me...

"Well she's... She's not been feeling the best lately..." Replied Mrs McCenzie on my behalf.

His smile faded into an unbearable, impatient grin. He wanted to know what was wrong. So I told him.

"Yeah. I've not been myself lately, and in the stupidity of it all, I... I self harmed." It wasn't stupidity, but I wanted him to believe I was truly over it all, even if I wasn't.

He took a deep breath, the RAF didn't appeal to self harm. 'If you can't protect yourself, how can you protect others?' constantly playing in my head over and over like it was MY own slogan.

I could protect others, I would do anything for other people, but obviously they didn't think that...

He scanned my faint marks across my wrist and told me I was fine.

"You know how to prevent infection?" I nodded. I didn't really know, but I didn't want to be in that wretched place for much longer.

Within an instant I was gone.

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Once I got to the house it was only me and Mrs McCenzie. Tensions were as high as ever, this was a repeating occurrence.

"If you ever do that again... This family will wash its hands of you... Don't EVER forget it."

I was scared and alone. I turned to the only thing I knew how...

Yet again I covered my body with scars...

Deeper and deeper
they went.
I didn't know what to do,
I didn't know what it meant.

To be a little girl,
With so much emotion,
And with so much pain,
I wanted to drink that magic potion.

All alone in myself,
The scars were frequent,
And I knew one thing,
I had weakened.