Short Stories

Childish

I sat on my bed in silence, scanning my eyes around the room. Taking in the posters and pink around me.

Childish.

The word that keeps being repeated to me. Over and. Over.

My room looked like it was decorated by a 12 year old yet I'm 17. But at the same time I love it, it's my safe haven and comfort place but the words in my head spoke otherwise. Not my words but words that had been directed towards me that had changed my mindset. 

Somehow I just always feel like I'm not like people my age, I still act and feel young yet everyone keeps pushing me to grow up. And I don't mean act young as in  like a 5 year old I mean as in I laugh a lot and according to others I dress younger. I just feel this constant pressure on me that I act too young and need to change and honestly it's so upsetting.

All I hear from everyone is "stop being childish" "you're really childish" "you need to grow up sometimes" and I'm honestly sick of it. Because of this I'm constantly contemplating changing myself and overanalysing my character and why people say these things. But if I changed myself I wouldn't be me. Not everyone matures at the same pace some take longer than others. I feel people should remember that when criticising people in that way.

The sad thing is that although I try not to make these words change me I subconsciously feel they are and notice myself starting to laugh less, dress a little more like everyone else and abandon the hobbies that got me criticised. Instead of reading romance novels I've replaced it for going out shopping and talking more of cute boys. This isn't me. But this idea is ingrained so far into my head that I feel like that person is lost and I can't find her again. I've lost all sense of self, an ongoing sadness is slowly starting to develop within me and I honestly just feel drained.

A tear slips down my cheek, blurring the pink of my room in the dim lighting of my fairy lights. Mind filled with the word childish being repeated over and over anger begins to surge through my being, mixing with the sadness.

"It's all just fucking stupid" I shout, rising from my bed and ripping down the posters from the wall, throwing my heart shaped clock off the dresser and pulling my fairy lights from the place around my bed frame. I throw them on the ground and being to hit them with a canvas of painted flowers, making it tear. Getting a pair of scissors I cut off each individual light before they're in a pile on the floor. I pull the gingham duvet off my bed throwing it wherever. Tears of frustration slip down my cheeks causing my vision to intensely blur so I can't see a thing.

"I'm just so done" I sob, beginning to hyperventilate and snot to start dripping from my nose. I look at the mess around me and just cry. I just can't do this anymore. I drop to the floor and bring my knees to my chest in an attempt to comfort myself while I let all the sadness and frustration out of my system.

My mom bursts in my room hearing the sudden noises.

"Hey, what's goin-" she pauses mid sentence looking at the state of the room.

"Atalia what's wrong" her eyes soften.

I just sob in response not being able to to say a word.

She says no more and sits lightly next to me engulfing me in a warm hug.

"I just don't know what to do anymore"