|Tale of the Damned
Author: MapleTreeway PM
Melinda has been constantly abused by her mother since she was three. Not only that, but the school girls think she is weird and pick on her non-stop because of the bruise markings that are on her arms, and the atrocious clothes she wears. Sometimes Melinda wants to cry, but she was told to never ever cry - so she holds it all in. After all, being abused is normal...Right?Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst - Words: 407 - Published: 10-03-12 - id: 3062924
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
You know how sometimes people say that they wish they were dead? Just because of one single freaking incident? That doesn't sit right with me somehow. I have a legit answer for lying on the floor right now dying - and it wasn't because of one incident. It's because of multiple.
Here is another example of what people sometimes feel or want: They want to be abused. Who in their right mind wants to be abused? It's not what it's cracked up to be, let me tell you. It's far worse than what people let on and it doesn't mean that you can pity yourself.
The last one I'm sick and tired of hearing is this one: This is a Bully Free zone. Whoever made that saying slash sign up must've been really high or drunk or a hippie or delusional. A freaking sign does not keep out freaking bullies! The bullies are still there, they just kiss ass to whoever is in charge of the place then go and harass whoever their victim may be once the authority is gone.
But what would I know? I was just a thirteen year old who had a loving mother, a dad, a nice home, food everyday at regular meal hours, and privileges. Right?
I was, in fact the exact opposite (aside from the age)! I didn't have a loving mother, I didn't have a father, I didn't have a nice home, and I didn't have meals and privileges. My life, in other words, was a living hell.
I didn't realize that maybe, just maybe, being hit and beat and barely having anything to eat everyday wasn't a form of "training to become an adult" or that "this is good for you" kind of stuff. I didn't realize that it was a form of abuse.
I also didn't know that being picked on and being called names and all that crap was under the title of bullying.
Who knew all of that when that was what what their normal everyday lives were? I certainly didn't know and if someone even cared enough to tell me then boy I wouldn't be dying right now. Would I?
And the sad thing is, is that I didn't realize all of this until now. When I'm dying.
I'm so pathetic.