Introduction

Introduction.

 

 

      I am a liar.  The biggest liar there ever was, maybe.  Everyone is a liar.  But I am especially a liar.

      Let me tell you a little bit about me.

      The real me.

      What I’ve been through.

      I’m not going to be a liar.  I may not tell the whole truth.  This is to protect myself and you, as well.  You cannot hear all of the things.  I cannot tell all of the things.  You will know by the end of this book that I am a sick child, tormented, diseased, whatever you would like to call it, but I am not normal.  No, not normal at all.  What is “normal,” anyways?

      Here is the truth.

      I write this from the late night to the early morning.  I never write during the day.  I prefer to sleep then.  Some call me nocturnal.  Some say I have just gotten my sleep cycles off-balance, and that if I try, they’ll return to “normal.”  I agree politely but inside I’m screaming.  They don’t understand.  At all.  So I write, one, two, three, four, five in the morning, usually going to bed at around 5.30 when my brothers wake up.  I get up anywhere from 8 in the morning to 8 at night.  I then go to the  computer to advise the people I am forced to call “friends” and I check the things I must check in order to seem “normal.”

      I am not a happy person.  I am a rather tormented person.  Do not be fooled by my happy façade, my chipper mood, my witty remarks making people chuckle, my wise jokes making them laugh.  You will know all my secrets upon reading this.  Well, maybe not all.  Some are far, far to secret to be written down.  They are on the deepest parts of the ocean, which humans will never see.  They are the other planets in the other universes.  They are Pluto.  Too cold to access.  They are the sun; too hot to touch.  Secrets, secrets.  Secrets everywhere.  You will get some of my secrets in this little tale.  But definitely not all of them, no, never all of them, for they are the species that have yet to be discovered.

      I am a livid person.  I am a terrified person, a haunted person, repeatedly scared by the demons living inside me.  I am a person beyond depressed; there are no words to describe the agony and anguish.  However, I must cover it.  I must cover it with the thick layer of makeup I wear, I must cover it with my long sleeves and pants; I must cover it.  I must cover it with my smile, my eyes, I must cover it with my brightly colored clothing, the bows in my hair, the blush on my cheeks, my so-called “intelligence.”  I do a pretty good job, at least with the ignorant people, which is most of the population.  They are ignorant.  They are selfish, they are wrong, they are vindicated from their sins through “religion” and “faith” in “god.”  They are disgusting.  They kill for fun, they torture for fun, they hit for fun, they rape for fun.  They do gruesome and unethical things.  All for the hell of it.

      I got sent away for cutting myself.  The irony is, the more places they sent me to, the worse I got.  Not the other way around, not the worse I got the more places they sent me to.  No.  The places made me bad, they made me insane, and they made me into a person that nobody I know has ever seen.  They made me scream.  I screamed in the night, I cried in my sleep.  I still do this, just more quietly.  I ripped open my skin.  I ripped off the lining of my desk; I cracked the plastic on my permanently blinded “window.”  I always wondered: how could it possibly be a window if it was covered with shut blinds and a layer of thick plastic?  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven times I got sent away.  And that may be wrong, I have no idea, I can’t even keep track anymore.  The first time was superficial, as was the second.  The emergency room was scary, and I waited there for hours on end.  Tucker II West.  Hell.  Then VTCC.  The Virginia Treatment Center for Children.  I was not present during my stay there.  My body was, but my mind was somewhere else.  I was still semi-pure then.  Then the Commonwealth Center.  I will get into that later.  Then the wilderness, Second Nature Blue Ridge.  I got stuck in the little kid group.  Then New Leaf Academy.  I went on to a prestigious school in Baltimore.  I got sent away from there, kicked to the curb, for cutting.  Nobody wants me now; how could they possibly?

Reviews

[Bright Eyes]

please comment!