Never once did I think one person could ruin my life.
Never once did I consider that the hurt and pain would never leave me be.
I always thought everyone was just like me,
With friends and a family and decent grades for the most part.
Only nobody was.
Everybody else was feeling so much pain inside and it was because of me.
I caused that for them.
I can't even recall how many lives I ruined,
I just did it.
It's not as if I don't blame myself,
Because it was all my fault.
I knew the hurt they were feeling when I saw the tears brimming in their eyes and their shoulders slumping.
When I realized that what I was doing was wrong,
I was pushed away from the people I called my friends.
They treated me just like everyone else,
After I started to feel how much it hurt,
It became too much.
But finally they apologized and accepted me again,
I was happy.
I had friends, family, decent grades and boys even called me beautiful.
And then came the night of my birthday party.
Fourteen, I was turning.
Can you imagine it?
Losing your innocence,
Losing the one thing that was yours and nobody elses.
I invited all of them, and they brought along all the boys.
I was unsure, but friends should be trusted, shouldn't they?
I had been so stupid.
It was all fine at first,
We laughed and joked and had fun.
We did what real friends always did.
But then the boys started wanting more from us, or more likely, from me.
My supposed 'friends' did nothing to stop them from pinning me down and stealing my soul.
The places they touched me,
I still trace them with my finger lightly.
The pain they caused me,
That still hasn't left.
I still remember the girls watching them touch me and hurt me and cause me so much pain.
So, so much pain.
I remember begging them, screaming for them to help me, help me.
They did nothing.
They just watched everything,
I saw nothing in their eyes but smugness.
After the boys were finished, they took the other girls with them and left me there,
Lying limp and covered in blood.
I remember before the last of the girls left, she turned back.
I thought she would help me- she was my best friend out of them all.
But she just grabbed the doorknob and smirked.
Slam, the door had shut and I was alone to hear their cruel laughter outside my door and the screech of tyres as they left me.
I hadn't even cried, but it didn't make me feel any stronger.
I had been too weak to cry, so I just lay there.
Asking myself why, why did I deserve so much pain?
Then I began remembering what I had done to so many others.
I had even watched those girls kill another in the bathroom.
What had I done?
She had begged for me, too, and still I did nothing.
I felt nothing for her, nothing at all.
Yet when the roles were switched I couldn't handle it,
I was such a horrible person.
The next day when I turned up for school other kids stared at me and whispered and laughed.
And when I saw the posters they had plastered over the school walls, I finally understood what it felt like to feel worthless.
SLUT, SLUT, SLUT.
A picture of my smiling face hung above the cruel words, and I remember how I had put my hands over my mouth.
Running to the girl's bathroom to wash away my tears I had seen more of the posters across the walls.
SLUT, SLUT, SLUT.
Underneath the words I recognized their handwriting.
'Bet she's pregnant?'
Looking back I feel disgusted at what they had written about me and the depth of their lies,
But then I had only felt that it was all my fault.
At first that wasn't true,
At first I wondered why everybody hated me so fucking much.
But maybe I did know why.
Because as the words haunted me more,
It started to dawn on me just how much utter loathing and hatred I felt toward myself.
Soon the sharp edge of a razor blade was my only friend and I played with her every day.
She would hurt me physically but she numbed the pain emotionally.
One day I was at school and they pushed me to the ground, kicking me in the stomach and saying 'kill it before it's born'.
Afterwards I shut myself down completely, I just had nowhere to go and nobody to help me.
It was in the middle of the school day but I didn't care,
I hid in the library and slit my wrists many times, my tears mixing with the blood streaming down my arm.
I was young and didn't realize what would happen if I lost too much blood and I remember hearing the school librarian rounding the corner and screaming loudly at the site of me lying there, passed out on the blood-stained carpet.
When I was taken to hospital the doctors asked me my home number so my family could come visit me.
I told them and they came, but they didn't understand.
I was disowned and because they refused to pay the hospital fee the doctors could do no more to help me.
I was truly alone after that day.
I stopped attending school, I refused to let people see my face in fear of being recognized.
It was just meaningless after that.
There was no meaning for even living.
Nothing at all.
© Copyright 2016 Wicked Beautiful. All rights reserved.
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