Blind side

Chapter 1

On my first day in Kindergarten, someone asked me about the cataract on my left eye. I told them I was completely blind in one eye. I can never take back that mistake. 

My school, being so small, it only took a day for people to start talking behind my back, I received the name Cyclops. 

The next week some people in my class started calling me that and other names strait to my face, remorse wasn't in out vocabulary yet... and for most of them it seemed it never would be.

After a month, they would "hide" on my left side and yell into my ear, frighting me because I hadn't seen them. 

For the rest of my time in that district, life was hell. I would walk through the halls and people who new nothing about me, would walk on my left side and shove me, calling me a witch. Whenever we played doge ball in gym, I was always the first target, and always hit the hardest.

 By the time my parents asked me about all my bruises, I blamed it on clumsiness, afraid to be bullied more, convincing myself I deserved everything. After all I was the monster, and simply my presence could create a disturbance that could cause them to fight again.

It was halfway though middle school that my parents knew something was really up. I again convinced them it was my cataract that made me stand out, and they got me colored contacts. 

The bullying got even worse after that, people called me a fake, an abomination. They would throw things like pencils at me when the teacher wasn't looking, or leave trash on my desk. 

But the worst was the verbal abuse. Day in and day out I was berated with harsh words, that tore me apart. 

I was afraid to go to school, but I could never tell anyone. It was always my fault. 

The end of sophomore year was the happiest day of my life. My dad got a job in another county and we had to move. I would start over in high school. My bullies will now only ever torment me in my dreams, I'll be free for a short while.

Then somehow, someone will find out I'm blind. My hell will start again, and I'll never escape this endless cycle.

I never developed very good social skills since the bullying started at such a young age. I also developed anxiety and many other problems i'll never tell anyone, the worst being my insomnia.

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The thought of how it must look to someone on the outside consumes my thoughts, as I'm getting ready for my first day of high school

If you've never been in my shoes how would you know? You could't.

You'd have to guess that because I was a kind person before a monster, that i'd somehow endure. That i'd learn to love myself even when everybody hated me for no reason, that i'd learn to love others when no one around was willing to listen. 

Well, you'd be wrong. I did become a monster in my own sense, and what started in kindergarten wouldn't stop till I was free of all my scars.

But If scars never heal, could I?