Let's face it, there are a lot of stories about how Kim was abused and bullied and hurt. I mean, some are good and some are⦠not so good. (I swear I'm not talking about anyone in specific.) So, back to my point, so, what if it was someone else?
I looked at myself in the mirror, blood running down my nose, bruises engulfing my body, tears stinging my cheeks.
"You were a mistake! Go to hell for all I care!"-the loving words of my father
What did I ever do for God to punish me like this? Huh? Tell me!" -my caring mother's words
I sat down on the ground, and cried. I cried like there was no one in the world but me. I brought my battered wrists up to my eyes to wash all the tears away. I saw the scars. I cut. I guess you would figure that out later, so why not tell you now?
I staggered slash crawled to my very uncomfortable bed and stared off into space, slowly drifting into a familiar oblivion called sleep.
I woke up late, realizing I only had five minutes until school starts. Who will notice if I'm late? I throw on a black long sleeve shirt to cover my cuts, jeans, and old sneakers, not caring if I'm late or not. I grab my back pack and head for the window. I'm not taking any chances with my parents today.
I slip into class unnoticed. Not even the teachers acknowledge me.
"Class, there is a new student joining us today, I would like you to make her feel welcome. Kim, you can come in." Then the most beautiful girl walks in. She has waist length blonde wavy hair and doe brown, innocent-looking eyes. I can't help but stare.
"Hi," she waves a bit. "I'm Kim Crawford, call me anything but Kim, I'll hang by your toes off the top floor of the empire state building while shooting pebbles out of an air cannon at you." She smiles sweetly. Okay, not what I was expecting.
