Braided

Fourth Day of Highschool

Dear Diary,

I felt like I died today and I didn't even stay for school. I was sitting in my homeroom when the kid in front of me passed me a note. I opened it. I never knew 3 words could make me feel so small. It simply said I miss you. It could only be from one person. But why? Maybe he doesn't realize what happened, maybe he was too intoxicated to remember and only remembers me as a camper at his summer job. I kind of hope so and I wish I could forget too. It's burned forever in my memory. I ran out of that building as fast as I could. My house is about an hour walk from the high school.
The air had this brisk autumn feeling to it. It helped me remember that it wasn't summertime anymore. I mean it is a new season so it can be a new me right? I try so hard to form words to form sentences to express the storm that's going on in my head but there are no words to explain it. As I was walking I tried to open my mouth and say something. I thought maybe since no one is around I could finally say something but nothing came out.
When I got home my parents were off at work and I clicked on the TV. The news was on and it was one of those usual depressing stories about some conflict going on and the starving refugees. This made me feel bad. It's like what I am going through is nothing compared to what they are experiencing. Why am I acting like what happened is the end of the world? At least I have shelter, clean water and a steady supply of food.
I took a long shower and scrubbed at my mouth. I always try to scrub it. I scrub it till it bleeds. I try to scrub away what happened but it doesn't really work like that. I try to pray silently in my head. It's hard because I don't know what exactly to say and it sounds like a confusing mess. I have always been told God listens to my prayers but sometimes I feel like he doesn't hear me. I tried to clean up my lips before my mom dragged me to therapy. I put on some red lipstick to hide the damage. My therapist took it as a sign of self-care that I was doing better. I shrugged my shoulders. Didn't have much to say. I never have much to say anyway. But she smiles with that toothy smile that I just stare blankly at. I must really seem like a helpless case. As I leave she always says to me " I can't help you if you don't say anything." But I thought it was her job to help me speak and all she does is talk at me. She asks questions. Those are the most obnoxious things and she has me draw out my answers. I have to say I am not a half-bad artist. Diary, maybe I will start to draw inside of you.