My name is Anna and I'm 16 years old. My life pretty sucks as I am pretty famous at the hospital and rehab. Depression is something I struggle with, and emotionally, I am unstable. I was raped multiple times and I struggle with family issues. Surprisingly, my studies are not affected by all of this..
My life is full of experiences, I know right! I never had a beautiful memory. At least none that I can recall, never had someone to love me. I grew up in a broken home where nothing mattered except keeping secrets and pretending to be okay.
If my life had a eulogy, it would go like this ;
"WOE! TO THE PRINCESS OF THE DARK.
She walks amidst the dangerous sea
her soul crieth, but all in vain.
Born to a life of dreadful whore…
her tears flow down a lake of sorrows
blood dripping down her flawless skin…
She cries but no one hears her plea …
Her voice echoes a sound of fear ...
Who can save her from herself?
Who would heal her deepened wounds...?
At night she crawls up to the dark
Seeking refuge in her pain…
No one seems to see her tears
for she lives a life of lonely days
Woe! to the princess of the dark..."
I always cried myself to sleep, never had a reason to be happy. All I ever did was drown myself in my thoughts and write my life in a poem; the only means I had of expressing myself. I never trusted anyone, my life was filled with fear from my parent's words "conceal it, do not feel it". My life, a world of lies and deception.
It all started when I was about 6 years old. Mom never had a real bonding relationship with me... nanny did all her motherly duties and my father always had a bad temper. He lost control with Mom and slapped her. I could remember I sat there crying, mom sobbing next to me. She got so mad she pushed me away and never cared how I felt.
I clearly didn't understand much, but I could feel the heat rising in the house. Nanny always took care of me. She did her best, at least to her capability.
As I grew older, mom never seemed to understand how much I needed her. She was always out somewhere. Dad never cared less. He beats her up, gets drunk occasionally, and vented his frustrations at me.
I never got the opportunity to share the happiness of being awarded the best in my grades. Unlike every other kid, I only kept up with average grades to avoid my parents' backlash. My father never gave me moral support, neither did mom.
I was their only child; it was the least they could have done, but it seemed they had me by chance. I was my moral support. I learnt the hard way, became withdrawn to myself. Life became meaningless, days passing away like nothing else mattered.
It might seem like my life is some sort of sentimental and pitiful… but I assure you, the truth cannot be left unveiled.
School seemed to be the only place I could get a brief silence from, at least better that home. I never mingled with people, only had two friends, Sarah and Alexa.
Walking down to school always felt like walking on sharp edges. I could hear the whispers from different sides, "there she goes.. lonely weirdo…''. Their words made me feel bad, but I focused on getting decent grades as a way to distract myself..
The year I turned twelve, I began my first menstrual period; I went to the bathroom. Looking at my panties, I almost freaked out. I had a little idea of what had happened, so I decided to talk to my mother about it.
I knocked on my mom's door, found her on the bed scrolling through her phone, and nervously asked to talk to her. Cutting me off my words she replied, "go to your nanny… she'll help you deal with it."
Those words pierced into my hearing that I even wondered if she really was my birth mother. She spoke so coldly to me like we weren't on good terms earlier. My older friends shared how their moms helped them, making me question if anyone cared for me. With a sad face, I went to nanny, and she helped me cleanup.
We never really went to church on Sundays, only occasionally. My world was built around pain concealed in my heart.
I wasn't allowed to speak up about my parents' broken marriage, neither was I given a chance to express myself and live a normal life like every other child the same way my friends did. I was always alone because we never had family gatherings. It made me wonder if our family was a secluded one, exempted from social interaction.
When I turned 14, my parents took in a son of their distant friends for old time's sake. His name was Brandon. I could remember the first day he got to our house. His appearance was one to admire at a young age of 17 years. He had dark blue eyes depicting his enticing masculine structure.
My fascination was disrupted as Mom spoke "Anna, meet Brandon, he's going to be living with us for some time".I didn't care less if Mom feigned being alittle too happy but i was in a hurry to get back to my room.
Dad spoke a bit louder "Anna, why're you such in a hurry? show Brandon to his room."
I didn't say nothing. I did as I was told as always and welcomed him in the best happy tone I could find in myself.
Getting back to my room was like escaping and going into my comfort zone. I lay down on my bed dumbfounded, not knowing what next to do as every day seemed the same. It suddenly came across my mind that I didn't have any ambition.
Why would I anyway? Life wasn't meaningful to someone like me. I don't hope for nothing, I just lived the day as it came. My friends talk about their dream goals, but I never really opened up to them. Only did when I felt the need to so there was a limit to what they could talk to me about.
After school, I always walked home alone quietly. I preferred that because I always felt at ease that way. My friends never really understood me. Who were they to blame? After all, I never said much to them. I was like the odd one out of the trio. Sometimes I laughed with them... but the longer I did, the more I realized my life never had a touch of beauty to it.
Many times I wondered why I was born into the world since I never did anything special. I felt like a seed mistakenly dropped and sprouting on the land of earth.