Oleander-COMPLETED

I remember

I remember you as the little girl who always over-watered plants, because she didn't know when to stop giving.  I remember you as the little girl who did everything for her brother's approval. I remember when your brother said he and you would always be best friends.  I remember the laughter when you told people about your religion,and I remember those who told you that you were " a piece of dirt" because you didn't believe in Jesus. I remember in third grade when you sang in front of the class for the first time, but they didn't pick you to represent their class for the talent show. I remember you going home and crying because you thought you weren't good enough.I remember you when you were in fourth grade, how you went against the grain, standing up to bullying and racism, though you didn't fully understand both. I remember fifth grade when your world turned upside down, because your father died. I remember you starving yourself without realizing that you were doing it January of fifth grade. I remember you wishing that people would stop asking if you were okay, because the answer was obvious. I remember you sitting down over spring break, refusing to spill anymore tears but failing. I remember you building up your now run down castle inside your heart, housing all of your real emotions because you didn't want to put the weight of your problems on others. I remember you in seventh grade having anxiety attacks because of a few pounds you put on, and people telling what clothes "suited you." I remember you pushing through the fear when your grandmother had severe blood sugar fluctuation and everyday you thought she was going to die. I remember you sitting scared in your room, alone because your grandmother after bad attacks would tell your mother that "this was it, tell the kids  i love them"I remember you covering your hands,legs, and everything else that you could draw on in complicated designs because it was the only way you could think of to release your anxiety. I remember people telling you how beautiful the designs were. I remember after all of the compliments how determined you were to try and make something beautiful out of your anxiety, because it sure as hell wasn't leaving anytime soon. I remember in eight grade how much you cried, because housing your emotions was too much, because your one of your best friends father shot himself in front of his mother and brother. I remember how much you cried when he sent your friend a snapchat of the bullet hole in the wall. I remember you crying yourself sick because in the midst of all this pain your closest friends clearly didn't want you around anymore. I remember how you gained a part of yourself back after not reading a book in nearly three months. I remember when you realized that the friend you had put the most faith in, shared the most secrets with, was
a person that you despised. I remember you telling your mother" I can do this" when she asked you to start singing more. I don't remember anything else after that. I don't remember because I am the little girl who overwatered the plants, and my I continue on in this slow parade of pain and misery called life.