Cry?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
I had just started public school and was in a hurt rage because my parents didn't care that the decision they made broke something inside me that can't be fixed. I'm ok-ish now, sorta, but I found this and thought I'd share.

Submitted: June 11, 2012

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Submitted: June 11, 2012

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I have no mom and no dad. They have condemned me to a hell I do not deserve. Or maybe I do. So many people trying to change me, fix me. If only they could see that I am not broken in the ways they think. I am broken in more private and permanent places. They are trying to fix something they know nothing of . . . me. My silence was forced upon me. Now, I willingly accept it. Most people are attracted to my silence because it allows them the opportunity to speak for a change. I am okay with that. But when do I get the chance to speak? It often turns out that when finally, I get the chance to speak, all I want is silence, peace. Something that was never permitted to me without a fight first. But that is exactly what I don’t want. Why is everyone so quick to raise their fists? Is dignity and respect so lost, washed away with the ages? I want to cry, but I see no point in the act.


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