Her Story

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

A reposting of an old piece. Not really poetry but not a story either.

Trigger warning. Some people may find this disturbing.

Submitted: February 13, 2018

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Submitted: February 13, 2018



Her Story.


When she was just eleven years old, her whole world fell apart

Her mother was in the hospital

Taken ill during the night.

She would have to stay with her grandparents for a while

She got on well with them

They didn't fight.

But rumours spread and tongues will wag

Secrets don't last

For long.

Her mother was depressed, had taken an overdose,

Was mad and crazy,


The girl learnt it all from school where it was a laugh

To treat her with contempt,

To turn away.

Friends she thought she had deserted her, turned their backs

And others just bullied

For the fun of it.

And what had she done to cause it, it must have been her fault,

They whispered and conjectured,

Sentencing her to blame.

The girl couldn't cope with it all on her own, no one would understand

The pressure built, became unbearable,

She overdosed, herself.

But the hospital had it's own surprises with staff that just weren't fit,

They blamed her too for her Mother's actions

Said she caused all of it.

This time it didn't last for long, she was too young

To be kept in an adult psych. ward

For weeks on end.

But the whole thing was a cycle on repeat

The girl and her mother

Stuck in a pattern.

The girl stopped eating. There were threats of ECT like her Mother had

They showed her the room it took place in.

A threat to make her do as they say.

Tube feeding was discussed. She would not be allowed to starve,

So she ate just enough to quieten them,

A weight she would maintain.

And so she turned to silence. They couldn't make her talk at all,

Elective mutism, drawing back inside her head

Away from cruel comments.

They gave her Sodium Pentathol to make her tell the truth

She fought it and it didn't work on her

There was nothing to tell.

It didn't take her long to learn what they wanted to hear,

And that is what she said and did

Acted and lied to escape.

She never told her Mother what the staff, her friends, had said;

That she was responsible for it all

Guilty, blamed, fully evil.

She moved away and pretended it was all a nightmare

Never spoke about it to anyone,

Became someone else.

But it was always lurking there inside her head, brewing,

Ready to pounce and strike

At any opportunity.

She fought it down so many times, in secret and in shame,

But the past has such a grip on her

She'll never really be free.

Guilt is so entrenched in her that whenever a problem arises

She knows that somehow, some way

She's been the one to cause it.

And people do blame her all of the time, perhaps sensing

A weakness and willingness within her

To accept it.


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