The anger bubbles over as my eyes burn with hot tears of pure anger and frustration. How could she do this to me? Why is she treating me like such a child? My chest aches with the bottled up frustration and my whole body trembles with defeat, rage and pain. My throat gets soar as I choke back the tears that want so desperately to break free and flow from my eyes but I push them back and beg them to wait until I am alone. “I feel you could have done a lot better…a C is unacceptable. Ashley your grounded.” I do anything but make eye contact with her knowing that if I do I will no longer be able to control the sobs that are being stored inside my chest. I wait until she gets up from my bed and lets me be alone, it seems as though it has been ages until she finally realizes I have nothing to say for myself and she lets me sulk in peace. When she finally does leave me be, I let out the breath I had been holding and with it come fresh hot tears that now roll and tumble down my sunken in cheeks. I wipe them away in angry swipes of my arm ashamed of my uncontrollable emotions. I throw myself onto my bed and curl up hoping that the pain of rejection, self-doubt, and disappointment will leave for just a second and give me some relief from the constant pressure I am under. Although I beg for mercy and plead for all the pain to just wash away I am left feeling even weaker than I had before. I sit up, I’m too frustrated to lay down, too hungry to just sit still, I wish with all my heart that I could go back in time when it was just my mom and I, as I close my eyes a flashback from my childhood comes to mind and I watch myself and my mom at the park.
It was a warm august afternoon and we were at my favorite park as a kid. I was swinging on the swing and my mom was pushing me as we talked about what ice cream we would get after we left the park.
Back then life was much easier, simple even. Now however I was fifteen and stuck living with my new stepdad and stepsister, both of which I hated more than words could ever explain. After my mom married my new “father” she changed and not for the better. Our once close relationship has been withered away to little more than saying goodnight before I went off to my room where I felt safe. Now it seems all my mom can do is get on my nerves and p*** me off, it’s nights like these I miss my real dad who died in a plane crash four years ago. The pain of his loss is still close to me and to this day I can’t talk about his death without tearing up. My dad was one of the best men to have walked the earth, he was one of my best friends and when he died I was heartbroken, no that doesn’t cover it. I felt as though my heart had been ripped from my chest with pliers, thrown on the ground and run over by a 20 ton tank.
Now I was in high school and although I had made new friends and was “pretty” I still felt as if I was a failure. At times I asked myself if life was even worth living anymore and even though suicide was most definitely out of the questions sometimes I wondered, what if? I had resorted to a minor case of anorexia in order to cope but even still I couldn’t handle the stress of getting straight A’s and pleasing my mom. After my freshman year report card for the first semester was sent home and my mom saw my two C’s I was reprimanded.
I gazed out my bedroom window while I was tucked into a neat ball on the floor and I looked up at the starry night sky. With each twinkle and sparkle another tear rolled down my cheek and dripped onto my pajama shirt that hung on my slim malnourished figure. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and sent a short prayer to god hoping that maybe one night I could go to bed without crying.