Picture this

A Chapter by Minty

Chapter 1

Picture this.
You are a fifteen year old girl. You're only about three months away from being 16, but about 7 behind the wheels and 8 hours nighttime driving away from a license. You're 5'4", have mid-length brown hair you wish you could re-dye black, have the eyesight of an 80 year old, and are a bit too chubby for your liking. You lie there on your bed, clad in black bed sheet and a light Nightmare Before Christmas afghan, and stare up at a dark ceiling with one question on your mind;
"How did things end up this way?"

The farthest your memory goes back was to a time when you were about 3 or 4. Crawling to the dining room table and being passed up by the older kids in your mother's daycare. If nothing else you just remember being sad. No other details come to mind, just the fact that you were sad.
You fast forward to another time you were 4. You can remember you were definitely 4, because your mother was talking about how 4 was the ripe age for pre-school. You were wandering around the meat isle of a local Pick'n'Save, that is no longer standing, when your mother sprung the news on you. You thought about how your older sister would always go to school early in the morning and how you were going to be like them.
This terrified you.
You were mommy's special companion. You were daddy's little girl. If you started pre-school you wouldn't be able to see daddy off to work, you wouldn't be able to enjoy cartoons in your pajammies until mommy dressed you up, you wouldn't be able to accompany mom on her errands.
You wouldn't be special anymore.
But, you kept your mouth shut. Said "Okay mommy." because even then you knew it was better to just go along with it, and keep your thoughts to yourself.

Your mind fast forwards to pre-school; the crying classmates, the strict teachers, the dumb games. You had known everyone in the class, and were relatively close to some. You had one friend you still know today, Andrew. You called him your best friend, because when you guys were alone you were best friends. But in public he wanted nothing to do with you. This, of course made you sad, but you kept that to yourself and dawdled around with the dinosaurs. You learned early that people didn't want to be seen with you. You learned early how to play alone.

You only remember few snippets from your early child hood, but there was one thing all the snippets had in common. You don't really know why, but your mind had forgotten all the happy childhood memories, in all the clips that you could play in your mind you were scared, uncomfortable, angry, or sad. Reflecting on it you may have been born with a low serotonin level, but you can't be sure.

You think this may either be a cause, or an effect for events that have molded who you are, and how you act today. Thankfully, at 4, you were not allowed to fully understand what was going on around you. You would live in this bliss for several years.

You fast forward to kindergarten. You remember being late and having to have your mom drive you. You remember showing up late to class and having to introduce yourself in front of the circle of people who would be your classmates. This was the first time you remember being fully aware of yourself. The way your clothes fit awkwardly around your body, how your hair tie was just a tad bit too tight and it was giving you a head ache. You remember that earlier on in the year, instead of fighting the other kids for the popular toys you wanted to play with , you would sit by yourself in the table by the corner and draw. You remember the other kids would come and watch you sometimes, and tell you 'you were a good artist.' You even remember on of the boys telling you you had to grow up to be an artist because that's what you were good at. You also remember getting pissed and telling him that you'd grow up to be what ever you wanted to be, and nothing he said would change that. You remember losing your school's art contest (of which you would never win, and it discouraged you every year.) but you primarily remember the teacher always walking over to you and asking you why you weren't playing with the other kids. You always told her "You'd rather be drawing." but at least once every week she would come and ask you. You would just blame it on her being old and forgetting every time, but later you would find out that she would talk to your mother in hushed voices over the topic. She said that you may be showing early signs of Anti-Social Disorder. Your mom would then tell her that you were fine. Your mom really liked to ignore every problem as something insignificant. Even when you were little she would never look further into the possibilities that something was wrong with you. Had she actually cared to find out if these rumors were true would you be different? Maybe, maybe not. You'd rather not entertain the thought for you don't want to harbor any regrets that you never had the chance to control.

You can remember that your childhood wasn't all depressing. You know that there were some happy days and moments, but they're just holes in your memory. The negative times are so vivid, and relivable, it makes you sick.

There's something wrong with you, and you do believe that there always something wrong with you.

But you are just a 15 year old girl. Nobody takes you seriously because you are only 15.

Nobody will help you, even after all this time.