The Body Covered in Stories

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 22, 2016

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Submitted: September 22, 2016

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I was sitting on the floor, razor in one hand, vodka in the other. I didn’t know what to do. I was over the bullying, the lies, the rumours and the screaming. My body wasn’t normal; it was covered in my stories.

 

I was in and out of hospital all the time, in and out of psych wards; nothing was helping. I was supposed to be taking medication but I stopped months ago because it never helped. I felt like there was something inside of me that was trying to escape. Like…like a black creature. It’s a creepy sort of thing but no one believes me.

 

I have these dreams too, of this lady with long black hair that wears black clothes. I think they are jeans and a strapless crop top. She has a crack that goes from her mouth to her ear; it’s kind of creepy and I’m nothing like that but, I think it’s a premonition because I have long black hair and I wear black clothes all the time.

 

Every time I have this dream, she screams about this thing that is trying to escape; like a black creature escaping out of her mouth. It’s the same as what happens to me!

 

My mum said that I have been depressed for 6 years; since I was 12! I don’t understand how I can have survived all this time. My mum thought that after a year of me being in my room all the time being upset she was over it all. She took me to a specialist and I got diagnosed at the age of 13. I was diagnosed with depression. Why me? Why at such a young age? I hadn’t even lived properly yet. My mum went out the other day and left a note saying:

 

My dearest Malia,

I don’t know how to say this but I know you want to know as you have been asking me for years. You were diagnosed at the age of 13 after your dad left us. When he was around he used to rape you. If he couldn’t or someone saw him doing it, he used to hit and kick you. I didn’t know what to do so I called the police and they locked him up. After being in there for 4 years he had had enough and hung himself from the bars in his cell. Once you had found out about that, I think it’s when it started.

 

When you were 14 you tried to over dose because you said that no one accepted you for who you are. You also said that every day at school people would harass and bully you because you didn’t fit in and because you always stood up for the things that you really believed in. You got taken into hospital and you had to stay in there for months because you weren’t improving; they said they wouldn’t let you go unless you improved. The nurse that you had gave you some type of pill to try and help you get through everything without being depressed all the time; that’s why you can’t remember much. The scars on your body, you call them stories but aren’t they something you regret now even though they took away the pain at the time? There are so many of them.

 

I don’t know if you know this, but you have a little sister called Sophia. She would be 14 now. After you tried to overdose I sent her to your aunties because she got seriously scared and she cried for days. After a few weeks of her being away she got sent home as she couldn’t deal with not seeing us every day. Waking up in a different house, she didn’t like it. When she was home she tried to stay away from you because she didn’t know what to do around you. One day I left you two at home alone and you lashed out. She went to sit outside to be alone for a while and she got taken. We spent 6 months trying to find her but they found her body by a river 300 kilometres from here. She was a beautiful girl but, her life was taken so soon. I’m sorry that I have dropped all of this on you so quickly.

 Thank you,

Mum xo

 

I dropped to the floor. I don’t understand why I got told all of this now; why not sooner?

When mum got home I was very aggravated with her but, she didn’t think I should have been because she thought she was doing me a favour.

 

“I have had enough of this! Why tell me now and not years ago? Why keep it from me? I’m over all the lying mum, it needs to stop or I’m out of here”. She froze. She didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know what to do. She just walked off, she didn’t say one word.

 

Two days and she still hadn’t spoken to me. Yes, I yelled at her but she didn’t have the right to keep everything from me for so many years. When I woke up the next morning there was a note on my door.

 

‘I am sorry I didn’t say anything for such a long time but you weren’t in the right state for me to tell you what had happened. I know I should have told you but I didn’t know how to. That’s why I need a break. Not from you but, from everything. I’ll be back next weekend at the latest. I’m sorry my princess; I love you…’

 

Why can’t she tell me this to my face? Why does she have to write everything on paper?

With tears streaming down my face, she walked out the door…


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