Why Is It Me?

Chapter 3-The Scars

Someone asked why I always wore long sleeved shirts, well he didn't ask, he yelled why I wore long sleeve shirts , I didn't answer him. I know he was just going to tell you and then you would've hit me again, just like father.

But you were a little different, you cared to give me attention while father does it at home and tells me to shut up or my life would be over. I wanted to see you again, so I did what I was told.
I kept my mouth shut, just to see you again. Pathetic. I'm pathetic. Do you remember that saying? You said that to me when I cried in front of you. I remember exactly how you said it to, you gave me the look of hatred that seem to be rising out of your skin and to me, choking my, blinding me, and I loved it. The smile you gave me took my heart away. The smirk. I could feel my heart melt, I could hear the pounding of my heart. Then, it was gone, out of sight, and I wish I took a picture. Because I wanted to look at it when I was down, when my father hit me or when you never smiled at me, not even a smirk.

I came back home with a huge red mark on my face that day, my father slapped me. He yelled at me for being so weak, he yelled that I was just a punching bag for him.

Selfish. I was a selfish person. All I wanted was attention and when I got it. I loved it. I loved it every time you talked to me or yelled. I'm a really selfish person. Only thinking for my own self being.

I hated my personality, my face, my hair, my eyes, my smile and my attachment. I wish I couldn't smile, I couldn't see, I couldn't hear and I couldn't breathe. I wish I was just dead along side my mother, happy. Although I was happy with you most of the time.

I could hear you yelling from down the hall, it sounded really bad, so I went to eves drop like everyone else. You were
yelling at your girl friend, did she do something wrong? I didn't know what she did but it seems like something horrible, I didn't want to listen anymore. I started to walk to my class when you called for me to come over, I started run but you caught up. You gave me an angry look and dragged me to a unused hallway, and you started to beat me up. Blood was running down my side because you reopened my cut which my father put in me, but that didn't stop you. I was bleeding from my face and side, bruises everywhere. I wish your girlfriend knew how much you loved her, enough to blind you from the pain I was in. You walked away and I collapsed in the middle of that hallway in a pill of blood, finally someone found me and called the ambulance. I was rushed to the hospital, I could see you in the front of everyone, looking worried. Why were you worried about worthless trash, I was pathetic, a punching bag, I was a pathetic broken punching bag.