Have you ever been called names?
Have you been bullied at school?
Have you ever feel so emotional you just want to die?
Have you ever thought of many different ways to survive the cruel world, unscathed?
If these questions are asked to me, the answer is the same to each and every question, Yes, Yes, Yes and hell fucking Yes. I think some of you are already judging me based on what you see, read or heard from other people. But I can bet no one really knows that this girl has been through a lot to be told that she doesn't know how it feels like to suffer.
It was awkward the first time I entered primary school. Not to mention the students, even the teachers hated me. I didn't have many friends back then in primary school. Oh yes, people did notice my existence somehow. They knew my name, they knew practically everything about me when I didn't have the slightest idea of who they were. They even called me names. Just because I was tall (way taller than everyone else in school, even taller than the guys) and also because I was one of the top students. I didn't understand why I was hated simply because I was tall, I still don't, and I guess I will never find out. Lucky me, guys were less complicated back then, they helped me through primary school alive, yet bruised and broken.
High school was a new phase. I did think of starting a new life, to be someone new, to change into someone entirely different from who I was in primary school. Then something horrible happened. The people, the ones who mentally abused me, haunted me in high school like some scary fucking nightmares. They made up stories, spreading rumors like spreading butter on breads... I had no idea why were they so against me. But high school did change me in many ways. I'm still a sensitive young girl, though, who is still easily affected by silly little jokes made about me, and I cry every now and then.
Sometimes, when I looked up to the sky at night, whenever I saw a star that shone a little too brightly compared to others, I smiled. I smiled because I remembered someone used to tell me, "If you see the bright star, that would be me watching over you." I knew it was just a joke he made before he died, but I couldn't stop wishing that it's really him and whenever I'm sad, I'll stand outside, at the veranda, searching for the bright star. If it's there, then I'd whisper, "At least you're here, dad."
All these years, I spent my time thinking what if the world was never this way? What if this is just a nightmare, and when I wake up tomorrow morning, everything is just perfect the way I want it to be.
What if my dad is still here?
What if I'm not tall?
What if I'm prettier?
What if I'm known for someone cool/awesome instead of being hated?
What if, what if and what if...
And the questions keep on flowing endlessly with no definite answers.
I'M ONE EMOTIONAL BITCH. Yes, I admit that.
Some people have it all and yet they don't know how to appreciate it.
Me? Well, do I need to say more? Heh.