Journal Of A Survivor

Five

Today was the day she finally was going back to school. She has been locked in her house for a week. She decied it was time to at least try to regain her life back. Even if it was something as simple as starting school again. She always walked to school before, but this time it was different. Before she would walk with no worries, no paranoia, no fear.

She took the same route like always. Behind the place where she lives, all the houses were nice. The streets were small and quite. The only noise that was heard came from the birds chirping and soaring up in the sky. And the noise of one or two cars passing by. She loved the peacefulness, but not this day.

This day she walked with fear. She was scared. She glanced over her shoulder every once in a while to make sure no one was out to get her. She was fearful. She wanted to go back and lock herself in her room. Every little noise made her jump. She never has been so scared in her life. She always liked walking to places, especially alone. She liked having the thought of seeing the trees sway in the breeze. She liked the sound of rustling leaves. She enjoyed the little things.

Today she couldn't even enjoy what she liked the most. She couldn't. Everything was stripped away from her. Her outlook on life was diminished. Her heart was pounding inside her chest. She was so scared. She either wanted to go back home or hurry up and get to school.

She didn't want to backtrack. So she kept walking forward. Like she wanted to do with her life. She wanted to move on. Desperately.

She finally made it to the main road. She felt more at ease but not completely. The cars passed by in a whir. More people were around. She kept walking until she reached her school. Now she felt safe, she thought the more people were around her the more safe she felt. She thought nobody would hurt her. Not there anyway. She felt more safe amongst strangers than she did around her family.

She walked through the hallway. She walked passed all the other students hurrying to get to class. She passed the bulletin boards just glancing quickly and reading the words.

Join Jewish Club Today.

She wondered what that'll be like, she shook that thought out of her head. Little things like other people's religions always made her curious. She liked learning new things even in brief moments.

She opened the door to her classroom. Some students stared at her and she felt so self conscious.

They know. She thought to herself.

They know what happened. They're going to laugh at me. She couldn't help but assume that her classmates knew what happened to her, even though they didn't. Her classmates didn't know and will never know.

She sat down in her regular seat. But she was anxious and nervous. She felt like she didn't belong. She felt weird, she saw how the people around her were laughing and having conversations. She wanted to be like them to be able to be happy to be able to laugh. But she couldn't. She was so sad, so depressed. She was so lost.

The teacher walked in. She always came in holding her tablet and a cup from Starbucks. Despise the fact it was early in the morning the teacher always cracked a joke about something. The class would burst into laughter, and so did she.

For just a second she felt normal. For that brief moment she didn't feel broken. The lecture went on and for once her mind was someone else other than the accident. She took notes like always. She desperately needed to catch up she missed a whole week of school and she needed all the information she could get before finals started. As the hour and half passed by she felt sane.

Monday was the only day she had one morning class. She felt anxious again as she made her way home again. She didn't want to be home. She despised being home. She turned the key to unlock the front door.

Hell.

That's what home is like for her. She is bashed, she is criticized. She is blamed for something that wasn't even her fault. But at that time she did think it was. She blamed herself for everything that has happened to her.

She ran upstairs to  her room. She crawled into bed. She wanted people to realize how much pain she was in or at least try to understand and try to help her. But growing up in a family where you had to mask all emotions except happiness or anger it was hard. You weren't allowed to show weakness. You weren't allowed to be sad, you weren't allowed to feel almost any negative emotion.

She tried her best. She tried her hardest. She tried so hard to hold back the tears. But they flowed out.

She never liked crying, she thought crying was a sign of weakness. But she couldn't help it. The tears flowed. She wanted the pain to go away. She didn't like feeling such immense pain. Pain like no other.

She wasn't herself. And she might never be.