When I would hear my friends saying that their parents hugged them, helped them with their homework, played with them, I would get angry. My friend kept telling me to report them, but I mistook that violence, those insults as love. I don't know if I was wrong, but for me it was like that. Even though they were hurting me.
Eventually the policemen asked why I had turned away, and their question went unanswered.
After endless minutes they came out and I never saw them again.
Afterwards my parents came in and took my backpack and told me that I would go home with them.
The next day I went back to school, everyone asked me questions, which I did not want to answer. At that moment I wanted to cry, to scream, to break everything, but most of all I wanted a 'hug; who knows what it felt like to receive it, people said it was beautiful, maybe it was, two bodies assembling for a moment almost forming one.
I felt like talking to the school janitor. She was nice, a friend of mine, kind although sometimes she got angry with me because I didn't listen to her. She really loved me and reminded me of that every day. I went to her, but as usual I couldn't talk and started crying, not even knowing why. She asked me why I was crying but I could not tell her so I preferred to just stand there in silence, she did the same.
Back home I went straight to my room and fell asleep until the evening.
When I woke up I felt lousy, so I drank all day, and spent my day in retching. The next day I had a terrible headache and couldn't remember anything I had done the day before. Now in addition to smoking, cutting, and vomiting, drinking had been added; the four things that attracted me the most at this time.
Since that night, I started drinking every day. I was always euphoric. I used to go to my psychologist completely drunk and by then I smelled perpetually of alcohol, smoking and vomiting. She had noticed this and told me that by drinking, smoking , vomiting and cutting myself I was not making things better, but hurting myself. Things they all repeated. The so-called 'catch phrases' that are supposed to make the world better and that encapsulate 'the right', what should be done.
I, on the other hand, really wanted to destroy myself to the point of exhaustion and didn't care if I could end up anywhere else.
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The girl wrong
General FictionLisa is 14 years old. She is sad, but she doesn't want to be! She cuts herself, she doesn't eat, she is targeted by bullies, and she can't get the words out of her head that not only people at school but also her family members say to her: "You're u...
