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A story based on a point in my childhood. Réya is entirely based on myself at that age.

I wrote this because I read a story called 'My Name Is Alexander' on DeviantArt, and was inspired to write this. "I Dreamed A Dream" by Les Miserables was also an inspiration to write this.

(Réya is obviously the same as the one in "Réya's suicide", minus the actual suicide and death)

Submitted:May 2, 2013    Reads: 15    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

My name is Réya. I am seven years old. My favorite things to do are drawing and writing my own stories. I write a lot of Pokemon adventure stories and also fan fiction on my favorite Disney film Lilo & Stitch. I also love swimming too and adore water slides. You can see I love adventure. It's fun and you never have to worry about getting bored. I wish my life was fun like that, but it's not like that at all.

I started Primary School a few weeks ago. I'm in Year Three now. I don't like it. It's a horrible nasty place with horrible nasty people. I miss my old School. The other kids pick on me, even the big ones. My teacher doesn't like me. She blames everything on me, making everyone else turn against me. She never believes me when I try to tell her I didn't do anything bad or wrong. She singles me out in the class, making them laugh at me and make me feel bad about myself. Everything is always my fault in that class, even if wasn't anywhere near where an incident happened, it was me who got the blame and that was that.

The other children hate me too. And I hate them. They make fun of me a lot because of the things I like and the way I look. I have long blonde hair and blue eyes, but I know I'm ugly, they make sure I get the message. Three older girls tease me when we have break time and lunch time. They follow me around the playground with hurtful words. I wish they'd leave me alone. They tease me in class too by pulling my hair and poking me. I try to tell them to stop, but I end up getting shouted at. I wish I didn't have to go to School. I wish I lived in a hot and sunny place by the beach where I could do what I want when I pleased. I could go out and swim whenever I wanted, eat nice food, play games whenever I wanted, but I would have to keep dreaming. I'd dream of this wonderful place during class sometimes, when I'd daze off into my perfect universe. Class was dull, so I'd always daydream and imagine myself there in that place where no one can hurt me or call me names. I'd imagine a legendary Pokemon flying in through the classroom windows. I would jump on her back and ask her to take me to that place and there I would go, flying away, higher and higher and further away from my life. I know it's likely never going to happen, but yet I still look out the window in my class hopefully. I dream of that place, but I'm snapped into reality every time and pulled back.

Nobody wants me in School. I don't belong there. One morning, those girls came up to me again. They told me that everyone around hates me and that no one wants me. It hurt, and I cried. I hate crying in front of others, and I try not to cry when I'm around the kids at School, but they always push me every time.

I go to Girl Scouts every Friday night. I'm not wanted there either. I've been going since my last year in my last School. I was excited to join at first, but then the other girls started to turn against me. They hate me as much as the kids at School. They don't like what I like. They think I'm ugly and weird too, and don't want me around them, so they exclude me. I don't want them either. I don't want to join in anymore, which make the adults annoyed with me. I've begged my Mum hundreds of times that I hate it and I don't want to go anymore, but she wouldn't let me. When I went when I was still at my former School, I'd go there wishing that I was back at School. I enjoyed School then, but now I have two places that I hate and I'm surrounded by hatred every day.

I punish myself sometimes. I bite hard into my arm, poke myself with pins and pinch myself. I've tried to break my wrist before by bending my hand backwards too and I've tried to do the same with my finger by slamming a door into it. I do this because it's my fault. It's all me. It's my fault that people don't like me. It's my fault that I'm ugly and weird. I don't know what's wrong with me, why I'm treated this way, but it must just be me. I still dream of that place, a place where no one hates me, a place where I'm accepted, a place where I'm not blamed for everything and where people will listen, because I am unhappy, hurt and in pain, but no one's listening.


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