Shattered

Mailana Carter (May-lanna)

         I sit on the small couch in my room, knees to chest, tear stained face and tangled hair. I stare out of my floor to ceiling window looking at the flashing New York bridge lights beam through the night sky, and cars fly past each other on the interstate. I've been sitting in this same spot since i got out of school at 3:46 pm exact, it's currently 6:15 pm. I've never been this hurt before, my best-friend is moving away to Atlanta and the boy I thought loved me didn't. But who could ever love someone like me ? i'm not a "winning Prize", I don't have that 'flawless skin" that most girls would have. No. I'm the complete opposite, with a ever lasting scar under my left eye, a permanent burn on my right forearm, a scratch the size of a long string going across my stomach, and a dark mark on my right thigh, i'm nothing like the other girls. My mom always told me that my scars are what made me, they symbolize that i've made it through the struggle, they are a symbol of my strength and my sacrifices. But me ? I don't see it like that, to me they're nothing but symbols of disappointment, just there to remind me that I could've fought harder and better.

          My step-father told me to "Embrace the scars, let the world know that you've been there and you survived", but I don't want to let the world know that i've survived. I want that flawless Covergirl skin, the kind of skin that doesn't even need makeup or a filter to hide the flaws, because of the simple fact that their aren't any.

"Mailana, Dinner is ready" my mom yelled from downstairs

"I'm not hungry" I simply responded

I went ahead and braced myself for the upcoming conversation that I was soon about to have with my mother. I knew she cared deeply about me but sometimes, I just didn't want to talk. I could hear her feet making their way to my room. She opened my door only to find me in the same spot as 6 hours and 10 minutes ago. Her once happy face saddened once she saw me.

"What's wrong Mon chéri (Honey)" She asked as she took a seat by me

My family is Half French and half Cherokee Indian, we all know the french language and the Cherokee language Tsalagi but more of the family is French . I grew up in France but moved here to New York when i was 15, im now 18 and I hate it here with all my heart.

"Why can't I be a covergirl momma ? Why am I not as beautiful as all the others ? Why did it happen to me mommy ?" by now i was letting the held back tears fall freely while my mom engulfed me into one of her tight, sincere, love filled hugs. I took in her coconut and honey scent while she rubbed my back in a soothing manner.

"Because you weren't supposed to be baby, you are here to be strong for other girls like you. Girls that have been through what you've been through Mailana. I'm very sorry that-that happened to you but there is nothing more that i can do. He's gone for good and he won't mess with you anymore honey. April is the month dedicated to children like you, and just because you have scars that symbolize does not mean that you are not beautiful, you are beautiful with or without the scars to prove it and forget about him. I never liked him anyway, he was always hungry and asking for my chips." she let out a small laugh and I chuckled a little with her

"Thank you mama, I really appreciate you and dad."

"Don't you ever thank me for that again." she lightly hit my thigh "i'm your mother, i'm going to tell you that regardless, now if you want dinner then come down and get some, if not then i will save it for you until in the morning." she hugged me tightly before standing, letting me go and placing her hands on both sides of my head "I love you baby" she placed a gentle kiss on my forehead

"I love you too mama"

          When she left out of my room I decided to call it a night and eat in the morning, i'm not really in the mood to eat right now. That night I dreamed of all the things that has happened to me over the years of my life. All the way from waking up at night to my Intoxicated "father" and bruises everywhere once he left, with him I always felt like He was the bow and arrow and I was target that got hit multiple times every night. I dreamed of all the days that the boy I thought loved me had told me of all my flaws and how hideous I was, and in a way, I believed it all. Every last detail that he told me everynight. I also dreamed about how I watched my baby brother be covered in boiling hot grease because of my "father". These horrific dreams never stop, and my pillow ? Oh it never makes it through the struggle, it's always continuously drenched every morning from my warm tears falling freely all throughout the night. It gets very tiring having to wake up drenched in tears, wash and dry my pillow, and brush out my tangled hair every morning.