The constant glares. The tortured screaming inside my head. The disgusted looks I get in public. That’s the only thing I remember from my elementary school. From Kindergarten, all the way to seventh grade, it was only that. Barely any positive sayings exchanged. Usually all negative, but isn’t what that world revolves around?

It’s the only thing I had remembered from my childhood. Of course, occasionally some memories flash by like cars on a highway, like the time I fell off my bike, or the time I actually played tag with people that didn’t judge me.

Kindergarten started nice and slow, like the beginning of a roller coaster like only went up. First, second, and third grade felt, almost as if it never happened. It was a time of peace, and a time when no one cared how anyone dressed, or how anyone acted. Fourth grade was almost being at the top of the drop. It wasn’t the worse, but it was still generally terrible.

It’s when we were about to fall, and damn right did I fall.

Fifth grade, changed everything. Everyone started judging me and right then and there and it’s when I had started changing myself. For the better I thought. Yet I didn’t know I was setting myself up for failure.

Sixth, and Seventh grade was equally worse, with the same glares. Now it was Eighth grade.

Let’s just say I was waiting for this roller coaster to stop falling and finally go up. But in real life you don’t have a happy ending.

~

1

“Give me therapy, I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything.” - 0:55

As I was walking through the halls, I felt as if I didn’t fit in. Everyone had these permanent, never ending smiles on their faces, and I still had to plaster one on so no more attention gets brought to me.

“Hey!” someone called out to me. One of my “friends”, “you seem a little sad, are you okay?” She asked.
    “Yeah of course, I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Just a little tired.”

    Little did they know that tired, had a whole different meaning. I was wishing that one day, maybe someone would ask what I was tired of, so I didn’t have to say this repeated lie again. I was getting sick of lying.

2

“You tell me you need me, then you go and cut me down” - 0:49

    “Please, don’t leave me, I really need someone right now.” Her untrustworthy voice called from my phone.
    “Fine, I’m here.” I replied, soothing her. The words came out of my mouth again, like a waterfall.

I never would stop them, because to me it would be like killing a person.
   
“Thank you, honestly I care about you so much.” She said

That’s not what you were thinking when I heard you in the bathroom spreading rumors about me and talking s***.

“Me too, but I’m here.”

I’ll be the person I wish I had.

3

“Who's gonna be the last one to drive away? Forgetting every single promise we ever made?” - 0:21

    The constant lies that were told to me were sickening. Especially the amount of times they had been told.

    “I’d always be there for you.” “I care about you.” “Don’t worry, people care.” “I love you.”

    I hate it. I hate the fact that at age 13, I can’t even believe in humanity. It’s driven me to that point, where I don’t care. Where I don’t care about how people treat me. How they used me. I threw the water bottle I was holding at my bedroom door, and watch the water spill out of it, like how my emotions were spilling out of me.

    “I HATE IT!” I screamed. No one would hear me, but I secretly prayed that one day someone would be my Superman and save me from this hurt.

    And I hate the fact that I’m still lying to myself.

    But I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt, and just think about the wise words my father told me,
   
    “Someone won’t make a promise if they know they can’t keep it.”

4

    “Oh, hey. Good day. I pretend that I’m okay. Crack a smile, show my face, hoping just to float away.” - 0.07

“May I go to the bathroom?” I asked the teacher. My heart was racing, like a loud tribal drum. My mouth was dry, and I desperately needed to get to the bathroom. Not for what a bathroom was for, but for an isolated placed that I could let my tears out, and not let my heartbreaking cries for help get called out.

“Of course you may.” He replied back. As I was walking out of the classroom, my friend walking in stopped me by putting her hand on my shoulder.

“Hey are you okay?” she asked with a concerned voice. “You seem a little parched.” 
“Don’t worry I’m fine, I just have to go to the bathroom.” I smiled at her.

She nods and walks in the classroom, while I walk towards the bathroom. Walking through the hallway, I smiled and greeted every person I walked by - complimenting them at the same time. But when the hallways were silent and the only sound I would hear were my squeaking shoes, I let out as long breath. My knees were weak, and my arms were feeling very heavy. My head was spinning in circles, and my eyes were tearing up. I opened the door to the bathroom and quickly sat in a stall. The creaking of the stall door was loud enough to cover the shaking cries flowing out of my mouth. I grabbed the toilet paper and quickly cried into them, letting my tears soak up the bundle of toilet paper I was holding. My shivering was unstoppable, and it felt nearly impossible to control it. The voices had entered my head again, especially because of what happened earlier this day.

“Stupid! Dumbass! Kill yourself!”

Of course no one else heard these words, cause they were all in my head, but I couldn’t stop them. And damn did I wish I could. It was impossible, they came like a care package with every move I made. I wanted everything to stop. Thee harsh words. The uncontrollable haunting words replaying in my head. All of it.

My wrists were in pain, as they always were when I cried. My sobbing was gradually getting louder, and I was scared someone would hear. I bit on my tongue, hoping that maybe it would hurt enough to muffle my cries of help.

But nothing hurt more then the pain inside of me.

5

“Daddy, I’m alone, ‘Cause this house don’t feel like home” - 0:50

They thought I was sleeping, but like most days, I just couldn’t. I was awake in my messy bed, blankly looking at the white ceiling. It had a pink light flowing across, like a boat on the vast, open, sea, from the light that was on. My house were built with thin walls, which were why I would hear my parents talking in the next room.

“It’s a huge possibility I can loose my job, a huge one!” My dad was furiously whispering.
“Honey, it’s okay. I have my workplace, we can still support our family.” My mom responded back in a tender voice.
“No! Our family needs money! And I can’t do s*** about it!” He called out.
   
    There was a loud crash coming from the next room, sounding like it was a stack of books. My heart started beating like an earthquake, and it took over my hearing. My eyes started tearing up yet again, and the next second I was muffling my wails in my pillow. I hated seeing my parents this way, not being able to be happy with themselves, and being put tremendous loads of pressure on their backs. Was it because of me? Because I’m not the best child? Am I not good enough?

    I just wish it was Kindergarten again.

6

“Hold on tight, this ride is a wild one.” - 1:07

    “C’mon! We’re almost at the roller coaster!” My friend had called out. I smiled and followed her through the immense crowd of people, tripping over air and laughing our hearts out. I felt perfect at the moment. Like everything was perfectly put into place. We finally got to the huge roller coaster, and took in deep breaths, almost as if we were fish out of water. I waved to my friends already in the line, and rushed over to our spot. People had their eyes placed on me like a tracking device, and I started getting worried. I never did well when people were putting their attention on me.
   
“Don’t pay attention.” She said to me, as she squeezed my arm, a habit of hers when she was worried. I gave her a warm smile, and I thought,
   
“Maybe this roller coaster is finally going up.”

7

“Though everyone said that she was so strong,
What they didn't know is that she could barely carry on” - 0:24

    I didn’t know if she ever would stop. She was throwing derogatory words my way, and I don’t know how much longer I can dodge them.

    And not get hit. And worse, fall.

    I couldn’t take it. Her screaming shook the house, and I felt as if my heart was beating louder than her.

    “You don’t do anything! Your parents work so hard for you and you don’t do s***!” She screamed. Her chest heaved in and out, with every enormous breath she took. Her eyes felt like a charging bull, and the target was me. She didn’t see anything else, all she saw were my flaws, and my imperfection.

    But what wasn’t to like?

    My hair had uneven layers, and was a disgusting shade of such a common color. My eyes were also a common color, which never let me stand out - although I always feel like I do. Everyday my body seems as if it takes a different toll. One day I’m as thin as a slice of paper, next I’m as large as a beluga whale. My mouth was as cracked as the sahara desert.

    And so was my heart.

    “Wait until your mom hears about this! Disgrace of a child!” She yells again. She was my grandmother, I couldn’t disrespect her.

    But maybe one day I would do something. To save myself.

8

“I look outside, and see a whole world better off, Without me in it trying to transform it,” - 0:13

Looking in front of a mirror never helped me. All it ever did was point out my flaws, as if they had a spotlight on them and they were doing pirouettes. My choppy hair were all in tangled webs, making it´s  color darken. My teeth were gritted, and felt as if they were saws cutting through wood. My cracked lips felt like the cracked mirror I broke when I was 10, from the fact that I didn’t enjoy how my face looked.

    I guess old habits die hard.

    My tear-stained eyes bore into my own soul as I looked into the mirror. They were red at the edges, and had a dark coffee-color. But I couldn’t tell at the moment, because of the dimmed lights and the fact that I would barely see with the amount of tears that I held in my eyes.

    It always felt hard to describe this… feeling I felt, but it felt like a rubber band surprisingly.

    At first it’s new, you don’t dare to stretch it far, and the worried thoughts that they would snap. But as it goes on and on, people try to stretch it far and one day it’s going to snap.

    And I am so ready to snap.

    My throat is closing up again, and my breathing starts gradually getting faster. The tears start flowing, like a broken dam. The wails escaped from my mouth like a broken vinyl repeating itself. The distressing words had filled my brain again, like an overflowing bathtub.

    And well, they don’t stop. But they never do.

    My heart drops into the dark pits of my stomach, and my body collapses onto my bed. My wrists feel a sharp pain in them, and I feel the same feeling in my neck. My heart feels as if it’s pumping gallons and gallons of blood to flow throughout my body.

    My heart is beating, so why don’t I feel alive?
   
~

Ideas were flowing through my head. What was I going to write for my journal entry? I forced the memories out of me, though it didn't take a lot of energy to do it. Listening to my rainy days playlist, I tried coming up with creative ideas for my narrative. My heart stopped, as the first song to make me cry came on.

They would yell, they would scream, they were fighting it out
She would hope, she would pray, she was waiting it out

    I could write about how everyday I hope, I’d hope for a change in my life, to actually feel loved from my family. I felt sick of waiting it out, but it felt like the best option at the moment.
   

Holding onto a dream
While she watches these walls fall down

Then again, I could write about how I held onto my dreams, like a little baby girl holding onto a balloon, trying to not let it loose.

But all balloons pop, don't they?

Sharp words like knives, they were cutting her down
Shattered glass like the past, it's a memory now

Or, I could’ve wrote about how my grandmother´s words had hurt me. Cut me even. Her words stung me like a bee, and the aftermath seemed like shattered glass.

Hey mom, hey dad
When did this end?
Where did you lose your happiness?
I'm here alone inside of this broken home
Who's right, who's wrong
Who really cares?
The fault, the blame, the pain's still there

    But also, I could write about how it has to be my fault. How my family's happiness has to be my fault. They were so happy until I came along. It had to be me. I imagined all the photobooks I looked through, and all tears I cried because of how I wished that maybe they would be happy without me.

All the battles, all the wars, all the times that you've fought
She's the scar, she's the bruises, she's the pain that you brought

    I would write about the wars I fought, and all the battles. And sadly, about how most of them were within me. How I still have scars imprinted in my memories about all the battles I fought.

    And I'm sure the scars are permanent.

There was life, there was love
Like a light and it's fading out

Or how they lost their love for me. Besides, nothing lasts forever. It has to be my fault somehow, just like everything else.

You've gotta let it go, you're losing all your hope
Nothing left to hold, locked out in the cold
I'm stuck in between a nightmare and lost dreams

I could write about how all my hope is gone. How my life seems like a living nightmare. I lost all hope, all my dreams, and worse of all I´d lost myself.

    I didn't know which one to choose, there were so many. What made it even worse, is that I already started my introduction, so I had no idea how to mix that with the story. At the same time, I’d wanted to incorporate as many messages in the story as I could. I wanted to make sure that the reader understood that a smile, was just an upside down frown. That my life was a chapter, I was re-reading, and the ending never changed. But mostly, I wanted them to understand that people with the brightest smiles, were the ones that cried the most at night, and I wanted them to try to think about what they say next time they’d say something hurtful. As the next song on my playlist came on, it brought so many memories along with it. And that’s when I thought about my idea.

    I brought my hands to the keyboard and started typing,

    ¨Give me therapy, I’m a walking travesty, But I'm smiling at everything.¨