[COMPLETED]
"Life doesn't get easier or more forgiving, we get stronger and more resilient."
― Steve Maraboli
She has experienced more pain in her 15 years of life than many people do in their lifetimes. Her life has always been filled with pain, em...
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ARABELLA'S POV
Misfit. Freak. Bizarre. Loner. Repulsive. Weirdo. Wack. Inferior. As I grew older, I came to accept and become accustomed to the adjectives that had been used to characterise me throughout my school years.
I had always been a painfully shy child.
I decided early on that being quiet and out of the way made it simpler to avoid other people. I think my shyness was a manifestation of my trauma response.
I had so much to say, I wanted to be heard, to be acknowledged. But it had always felt unsafe and unclear for me to know how to express myself.
I wanted to let others know that my feelings mattered, my voice mattered, my thoughts mattered and my existence mattered.
But I was too cowardly to accept it myself.
I've only learned to put myself down, to shrink in the never loosening grip of self-hatred and criticism.
I have allowed myself to feel powerless.
But I wanted to feel strong, I wanted to be understood, I wanted to stop this unnerving feeling of loneliness.
I wanted to be 'normal', to be able to fit in with everyone else.
But I couldn't—
So I did the only safe thing I knew, I ran away from my problems. And this time I ran away from my own identity in order to feel a little less needy and less of a burden.
I tried to hide my frail hopes in order to feel less ignored and abandoned, but all I got was darkness that crawled its way to completely consume me.
But I've had enough of everyone putting me down, so now I'm choosing myself.
And as long as I'm breathing, I'm fine.
I'm going to be fine—
Currently sitting in the principal's office, I was pondering and self-reflecting, while looking out of the window, sadly aware of everything that had happened in the past 30 minutes.
Wronged–
We had been wrongfully accused and I was beginning to feel guilty because all of this had happened because of me.
The moment we entered the office, the principal started lecturing us. Sara and Walker had been taken to the an infirmary because they were the only ones who had been injured.
They didn't care about me still drenched in milk, it was as if I was the guilty one so it didn't matter in what condition I was in.
My brothers and my friends had been trying to argue with the principal ever since we arrived here, but he's made it pretty clear that he won't be listening to us without the presence of our guardians.
