My secrets are the kind that would result in a school shooting.
I have wanted to die. I fantasized about dying because I couldn't take the bullying. Slipping on ice, hit by a car... Hanging myself in the school restroom.. Shooting myself.
I have wanted to kill others. Kill their children in front of them. Make them experience so much of the pain they have caused me. To take away my dreams. Make fun of me for being molested as a child. Stealing from me. Making me sleep outside in the winter. Stripping me and humiliating me. Treating me like a toy and threatening me with knives and guns. You can't trust anyone. Not your mother. Your brother. Your father. Your sister.
Everything good for me backfired. I felt like a skeleton. There was no will of the muscle. Nothing was there to encourage me to eat. I could only cry, and cry, and cry, and cry. So much crying. Entire school years. Entire summers. The gaps weren't large enough.
I wanted to eat them alive. Literally. I wanted them to be in so much grotesque pain, that even if they lived through the moment they would regret living after it, forever looking at the permanent scars on their faces and stomachs where their organs were formerly dangling from.
I hated the world. No one would help me. Everyone that would help was paid to do it. There wasn't any real compassion for me. I had no friends. My family was merely shared blood. To watch me contort in my cries was gratifying enough for them to humiliate me again.
How do you not regret doing that to a person? Why do people insist on pushing people as far as they do in this world? There are people who kill because they don't understand why someone would want them to feel pain. I wasn't offended when someone called me ugly, I was distraught that they wanted me to hurt. Why would you wish that on a person? Why...?
What is so funny about watching a person crumble? To make a person so invisible they don't even believe in themselves?
I have wanted to kill the innocent. I have wanted to murder. I have wanted to be the most grotesque person of my generation. And on top of that I wanted people to understand what was birthed inside of me to make me want to rip everything I knew to shreds.
I don't know why I am alive. Some people are surprised I never snapped someone elses neck, snapped my own, or both.
 Umbryyliam · Sun Sep 25, 2011 @ 01:38am · 0 Comments |
