"He's broken."
That's what they would say. They would say it like I wasn't there. Like I couldn't hear. Mom would say that it's not my fault they say those things. That it's not my fault I couldn't say anything back.
People say things. Horrible things. But I can't defend myself, I can't say things back. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. It's like everyone just stands there while I writhe and thrash about. I try to cry out, and I struggle, but nothing comes out. They just stand there and watch. They shake their heads in pity and look at me with a frown. They stand there because they gave up. And finally, I give up too.
