To anybody in the room she looked like a mean, and stupid girl. People hated her. People wished she was dead. People taunted her. Lastly, people hurt her, and she knew this. She knew she was unwanted, but she never knew why.
My twin brothers are innocent. They truly do love us. They just can’t comprehend somethings. They both have autism and PTSD, they have been diegnoised with several other disabilities but being the girl I am, I do not remember all of them.
It started off in fourth grade when I started to notice they wearnt normal. Kids would look at them funny and say mean things, and I, on the inside would feel I should stand up for them. At first, I did. But then they would turn to me. I hated it when they called them names, I felt so angry, so agrivated, so discussed that people could be so cruel. I often wondered how, my brothers, even though they have a disability, how can they keep from fighting back? I never understood it. My brothers are strong.
I have another brother. He was screwed up by my father, I mean we all kinda were but he was different. For the first 13 years of my life, he had been my best friend. Even though knives, theft, rape, lies and guns ended up being his choice of fun, I still saw him as my best friend. Looking back now, I ask myself how I could see something like that, but then thinking about what we went through with my father, my brother was nice. Eventually his fun became too much, it went from the streets to his own family including myself. He was no longer nice.
My sisters are… Well, very different. My oldest sister never liked me, but I could never get close to her either for whatever reason. Other than that, I have not much else to say.
My other sister is verry nice. She has been there for me through tough times, and done things for me when i simply just don’t feel like it. I never asked her to, but she always takes care of me, it’s good to have someone like that.
My mother is sad. I feel it. I can see it. I look at her sometimes and I see nothing but hard times and acres of burnt self-estime. I don’t make it any better, and I know that. She is a strong woman though. She has been through hard times. I understand it I think.
He use to beat my mom, and brothers, though he never physicaly hurt me unless you count being left at a park when your only seven years old, he never hurt me that way. He did say things though. People say sticks and stones may brake your bones but words can never hurt you, but they hurt bad. Bones will heal, words never come out of your mind.
Ever sence I was little I remember him tucking me in at night and scaring the living day lights out of me. He would sit at my bed and sing songs to me, but that wasn’t the scary part. He would sit there and stare at me, he wouldn’t blink nor move at all, I remeber trying to shake him to get him to respond but he wouldn’t. He liked doing that, he liked to scare me, but I guess he liked to scare anybody. I’m thankful we got away from him.
People in school-
“Why don’t you act like the rest of us?!”
“You have a hairy face!”
I’m so mean I guess, I try not to bother people. I try to stay out of the way. They still say the same things. They continue to think the same things.
I look in the mirror. I wish the reflection didn’t exist.
….People will never be able to fully comprehend another’s life. Big or small everybody has something that they are going through.
I’m just so sorry.
she was now dead.