"No, you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No, you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life"
― Simple Plan
"Could a scar be like the rings of a tree, reopened with each emotional season?"
― Magenta Periwinkle, Cutting Class
School. The stress of it was just.. Ugh. Leah hated school. Not the learning part, the learning part was kind of nice, it kept your mind off things. Schoolwork gave you problems you could solve, problems there were an answer to. And besides, learning new things was actually partially exciting. It was the socializing part of school that made Leah hated so. Gossip on every corner, kids teasing and taunting others' insecurities, the jocks making fun of the wanna-be jocks, and the pretty popular girls making fun of the girls who looked up to them, yeah, that was why Leah hated school.
Leah hung out with popular crowd, how could she not? Leah was absolutely stunning, at least, that's what everyone told her. She was very modest, intelligent, and pretty athletic. Leah was very artistic and could catch on to anything in very little time, and still come out in first. Leah was funny, she could fund the humor in everything. Leah was witty, and seemed to always be bright and bubbly, the kind of person you could sit down and begin to tell your life story to, explaining all your problems, and then walk away feeling lighter, like a huge weight had been taken off your helpless self. That was Leah. Or so everyone thought.
But the real Leah didn't see the good in everything, she saw the world failing before her eyes. Leah had been told multiple times that the more intelligent a person is, the more likely they are to suffer, and worry. And Leah did. All the time! But people would see how happy she was all the time, and conclude that her life was perfect. Her life looked perfect from the outside. Her parents were still married, she had a rich family, Dad owned a business, Mom was a teacher, she lived in an amazing house, with huge rooms, and everyone always seemed happy, and perfect, so people just had to bring Leah down somehow. They would pick on Leah for the littlest things. The way she talked, how she walked, and the tiniest body imperfections. Leah even had a list of everything she got teased for, she would add to it when something new was discovered wrong with her. Her list hung on the top of a small bulletin board in her room. So far, it read:
"What's Wrong With Me:
1. No butt. Mom used to tease me about this when I was young. One day someone overheard it, and now it's just stuck with me. I even started eating more so I'd get one. I have one now. But people don't care, they still call me no butt.
2. "Cankles". I'm not fat at all, but I have big muscular calves from ballet when I was young. My ankles don't stick out all bony like other people, so people call me cankles.
3. Ginger. I don't even have red hair, mines a blonde brown color. But someone saw a red tint in the sun once, and now everyone tells me how ugly and soulless gingers are, and how ill go to hell.
4. My nose.... The worst of them all... I... Got in a wreck two years ago, in Nebraska, we were on vacation, and on the highway, when some lady didn't even see us crossing the intersection and hit us head on. Our car kept going and into a ditch and it rolled 6 times. I punctured my lung, and from what they could tell, had more than 32 breaks In my nose. The cartilage was shoved into my cheek bone. I've had plastic surgery and 3 other surgeries. Whenever someone touches my nose it hurts... But people make fun of me for it. "She's so fake. Look at her ugly crooked nose. If you're mad hit her nose." My nose will bleed when broken , which it has been several times after, and people... They laugh while I cry. But they don't understand they make fun of me and it hurts my feelings.. And I tell them that too, or say stop. But everyone's like "your nose isn't even that bad don't be such a wimp" when I get hit in the face. How do they know? They say they've broken their nose before, they got punched. But no, this was more than a break. It didn't just heal... I had surgeries.. And they don't understand it's not just the break that hurts, it's the fact that if it weren't for that stupid wreck, I wouldn't have ever had to deal with this break. Or the last, or the next. And the nose doesn't hurt, I HURT. Someone making fun of it, or me hitting it on something, reminds me of the wreck and I get the aftershock feeling again, it all comes flooding back. I get all the panic and the pain again and feel myself slowly dying. I died in that wreck, just for a bit, but I came back. Oh how I wish I would have just finished myself then, but I failed. And every-time someone mocks my nose, I'm reminded that I should've died that day. It would've been better..."
