A girls life in her own personal hell

        There was once a girl who had a bit of a rough start in life. She found things that are bizarre, not to mention hazardous, normal. Like a bullet coming through her attic bedroom floor in a 3 story house when the gun was fired in the basement. She thought when her cousin touched her inappropriately that that was normal. Things that are wrong in other peoples eyes was her life that she lived every day.

She thought at age 5 being a mathematical genius and a reading wizard was normal. For, by 5, she was reading 7th grade books and doing high school math. That was all normal to her, and it marked her as the weird girl in class. Either that or the smart one or teachers pet.

To this day, she is still labeled as so. In today’s society, it is wrong, and a crime to be a pedophile. No one thinks though, how many victims each of them had. And they come in mass amounts. I’m sure there are statistics, but I have no clue as to what they are. The girl, being her natural self, would find out.

She always thirsted for knowledge, because knowing was something she could control. She savors what little she can control in her otherwise chaotic and torment life.

Up until the age of 13, she had been trying to find a way out of the pain and anger, until one day, she found her opportunity. One of her few close friends said her grandparents could take her to Leavenworth to meet up with the girls grandparents. She jumped at the chance to get away, and within 24 hours, she was already with her grandparents and on her way to Seattle where they lived.

She was able to live for a month in the safety and shelter of her grandparents house, getting to know a long lost brother and sister. But all good must come to an end for this girl, and the cops said either have your grandparents arrested and you’ll be forced to go back to your mother, or go willingly. The girl chose to brave out the dangerous environment than have her grandparents inevitable death be brought closer by her.

She had a tough time with it, having her stepfather say to her that the only thing she’ll be good for when she grows up is being an “exotic dancer”, only in harsher words. She didn’t let it get to her, and in doing so, she made it to where she is today, with people who care about her and would never try to intentionally hurt her. It doesn’t matter that they aren’t blood, they’re still family to her, and she couldn’t have asked for any better.

Through out her life, she has always triumphed over the evils that have came her way. Now she fights to keep her sanity while her past still tortures her and makes her think less of herself, even if her courage and bravery never fail her in her greatest time of need.

She has gone through 2 years of therapy for her childhood fears that have developed into full blown mental disorders like PTSD and a major case of OCD.

She likes to win, but she doesn’t mind failure. For it presents somewhere where she can better herself. To this day, she struggles with depression and she tells people she’s fine when really, she’s not. And no one asks any more questions of her. They believe her lies, because she has had practice. She lies because she thinks it will protect her, she lies not to hurt others, but to not hurt herself, to keep the pain at bay.

She lies. Period. But this does not mean that you should not believe everything, for she tells the truth more often than lies. She tells the truth about past and present, and only lies about her feelings. Don’t believe her when she says she’s ok, ask more questions. Believe her about her past. She tells no lies there, for she is proud that she is still here, about to tell about it.

There’s so much more I could say about this girl, but she has asked that I end it here. So I shall keep my word and say au reviour to this unfinished tale. Maybe one day, I’ll finish it. But until then…

                                                           Your ever faithful ~ B. A. Lupis