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Lavender Tears

Short story By: Dani Raines
Memoir



There comes a time in every child's life where they are at a crossroads with themselves. Strange ideas and feelings begin to emerge and they don't know how to approach them. They don't know where these thoughts and feelings fall in the spectrum of "right" and "wrong", and they are too shy to ask someone about it. Then they decide to take that leap and embrace themselves, giving into those thoughts and desires that seem to blur the lines. However, the reaction from their peers is not always the most pleasant and accepting...


Submitted:Jan 31, 2014    Reads: 37    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Is there something wrong with me? Am I abnormal?

I keep asking myself that. I've always asked myself that question ever since I was a child. I was in elementary school, a third grader who wasn't really special in any way, someone who kept to herself, entertained by books and stories and drawings, instead of people. Not by choice, but because I had no friends. My teachers always used to encourage me to speak up more and to be proactive; otherwise I would never make friends.

"You can't wait for them to come to you. Sometimes you have to chase after them."

They had a point, and I couldn't just give in without a try. One day I chose to speak up and express my opinion. There was a girl in my class that I had admired for a while and I longed to be her friend, so I wrote her a little note and praised her, saying she was smart and even saying that I thought she was cute and that I liked her. My heart was beating furiously, and my mind was racing. I was excited, thinking that this was the chance. I would finally have a friend to call my own! She called me over and I did my best not to jump out of my shoes, I was so giddy with excitement. She was standing there with our third-grade teacher and one of our classmates, holding the letter I had written. She confronted me about it, demanding to know if everything in the letter was true. I didn't have anything to hide, so I answered honestly.

"Yes, I do."

"You're disgusting," were the words that spilled from her mouth.

My heart was run through with a dagger. I was in shock, I couldn't breathe. I felt hot tears well up in my eyes, and I wondered if it was blood from my heart. I never made friends after that; they all branded me as "the weird girl" and I was bullied. That dagger in my chest was twisted, and it hurt for the rest of my time in elementary school. It hurt so much I wanted to die.

I know now that I didn't do anything wrong; I'm not abnormal. I'm just being me, a girl who loves everyone, no matter the gender. What's so wrong with that?





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