"Are you still there?" I doubt he's there. He's just a friend that has recently become my best friend along with some others.
"Yeah, of course." He said it sleepily. I looked over to the clock to see 10.
"You can go to sleep, you know..."
" This is more important, and I'm here to listen."
So, onward to the kindergarden part of my story.
-
-
-
"Hm, I'm getting tired of these seats. Time to switch it up, boys and girls!"
I was in the middle of doing something weird: plucking my eyelashes. My mother always said they were beautiful, but I never thought I was beautiful. When I was sad,alone,mad, or any kind of depressed feeling I would pull my eyelashes out. It was almost like my form of self-harm at a young age, but I didn't know that then, of course.
"Krystal, go to the yellow table."
I walked over to the yellow chair that was left open and sat down. I did more plucking until we had to go to music class.
- - -
I sat in my assigned chair. A girl walked by and yelled: "WHY ARE YOUR EYES SO PINK?!"
Embarrassed, I sat down and tried to cover my face.I knew my mother would be incredibly mad, and I'd have to hide my face.
- - -
I lasted until nighttime without her noticing. I sleep with my mother every night because my dad works the night shift. At around 11, I went into the bathroom, hopped onto the sink, and started plucking right in front of the mirror.
"KRYSTAL!" My mother came into the bathroom to see one of her worst nightmares. She hated me plucking, and all my eyelashes were almost gone. She pulled my hair until I fell off the vanity. She was crying in bed, and I climbed in next to her again. She took me between her arms and cradled me.
"Why," she sobbed. "Your eyelashes are so beautiful, and you're ruining them. You're so beautiful, and they were nearly perfect. Why are you doing this?"
She was answered by silence. We both cried ourselves to sleep that night. The black of the night hid my horrid face from her, and it made me happy because I didn't want to make her cry again.
- - -
Ok, this was a bit sadder, right? Basically, self-harming at 5/6 years old is new, huh?
YOU ARE READING
What's Life?
Non-FictionSo this may sound like some sort of cliche bullying story, but I promise you: It's much more than that. This is about Krystal. She is fourteen, and she has a story to share: HER Story * * * I go by the years because that's how life goes by. School y...
