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As her chest ached, tears once again made their way down her face. She swung her right hand over her face, swiping the tears. Cold and drained she stood up weakly moving towards the bathroom.
The haunting words echoed in her ear on a loop. Unfortunately as she walked she could feel the hateful glares and whispers. But it wasn't a whisper, clearly falling deaf to her ears.
" don't do shit like that you'll end up in a mental hospital"
Heavy heart and weary souled.
A s u r g e of anger runs through her veins. Though she did not use that anger or sadness.
"stop being a punk"
"bitch"
"over dramatic "
"emotional "
Each word was salt to the wound.
Slamming the bathroom door, she slid onto the white, dirt covered floor. Snatching her hood she throws it on. There she laid cold and weak. Though face full of tears, she masked it.
She heard so many things about n o t crying, but old habits die hard.
" not releasing your tears puts stress on your heart"
Yet a thick black blanket swallowed her whole. shaking and lost, she felt suffocated.
Her working hard was simply not enough,lost hours of sleep, built up anger wasn't enough.
She had to be better.
She had to.
Be great.
Be grateful.
Her pain shouldn't matter right,,??
Because she is only a child,
Suffocating
she couldn't breathe
and she won't never again.