Silent Tears

No...Know Me

Why death is beautiful : I can see all but feel nothing

I close the journal, and turn off the lamp. And with the thunder clapping and the lightning flashing, my eyes closed for the night.

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Opening one eye at a time I see that the sun isn't fully up yet. I open my window after dragging myself from the bedroom floor. I still don't understand how my legs stay on the bed but the rest of me is on the floor when i wake. That's probably where all my back problems come from. As i turn from my now opened window a gust of wind hits me and the scent of falling leaves comes through the room. I quickly hop in the shower and brush my teeth there just to spare time and effort . After drying off, lotioning up, and putting on my clothes, I head down stairs to the kitchen .

" Hey mom," I kiss her cheek," Sup pops," I walk on by. I grabbed the flapjacks off the table and ate while walking towards the door.

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At school I can't help but think about that journal. The things said, the feelings poured out, the emotions described. All for what? Who did this? Who is this person?

" Hey hey hey," I heard an overly happy Delilah say to me was I walk down the hall. She jumps backwards as I walk with the straightest face I can. " What do you want Delilah, I'm not in the mood." " It's just, that it's Valentine's Day and I thought maybe we could go to your house and I give you your present," she says twirling her hair, looking up at me as if I'd actually want to do that with her if she looked at me like that. " No, now please move...thanks." I walk away. "Winton, wait!" I heard Delilah run up behind me. Once closer she wraps her arm around my midsection and falls to the floor. I look around and wonder where everyone is and realise by the clock on the wall that the bell rang seven minutes ago. I'm late. "Delilah let go of me, you're acting childish," I tell her as I grab both of her arms to yank off. " Mr.Stone, Ms. Adae, to my office please." Great, Mrs. Crooke, she's not the principle but she's his assistant and knows my mother.... Perfect .

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Dear Journal,

I don't wanna be here. Cecila thinks she so perfect. Why am I here, I'm a mistake. My mom has forgotten about me and is so focused on Cecelia. She forgot the imperfect for the perfect. Im being replaced, I saw this coming, just not so soon. I'd thought she was the one person who'd love me forever, hell she had said it quite enough for me to believe it. The fool I was to believe in someone over my own self. They will never understand , the pain and emptiness of not having a father, I want to feel loved. They say the first guy a girl learns to trust is her father. It wasn't him and we know what happened to me because of that. I'm saddened and hardened by the unspoken hatred for me in my family and the damage of my own mind by my own self. I helped myself suffer but also I'm the only one who has been holding my hand through it all.

Why Death Is Beautiful: I don't have to see my oppressors.