Kushieda Minori: The Broken Teenager

*SMASH*

"What are you doing?!"

Like what you asked me to.

*CLATTER*

"Are you listening to me?!"

I am.

*SMACK*

"You think you could live without me?"

Who knows?

*BANG*

"What can you do? Huh? Answer me!"

I don't have the qualifications to say so.

*TWACK*

"You are just a mere child! A useless thing that cannot do anything with me!"

Yeah, of course. I am a "child" in your eyes, but God, I could do things without you.

*PULL*

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Why do I need to look at you when you're just pushing your anger to me? What did I even do?

*TWIST*

"Are you paying attention?! Huh?"

I am. I'm just sick of always hearing you lecture me with your "torturous love."

*THUMP*

"You think you could live without me? You think you could get a job and survive into the world? Ah? Do you?"

I might not. I don't mind dying though. I don't like this world anyways. Survival to the fittest, hah. Why not kill me?

"CLANK*

"Well, answer me! I had enough of your rebellious attitude, so don't you dare give me that look!"

I have been threatened enough with your words and actions. I can't comprehend the look you're talking about… my face is blank. There's no emotion on it and there's no reactions to your words other than dead silence and my untouchable heart.

In my life, I am always blamed and ridiculed for events that I had no connection to. It was all simply because I was an "easy target." I am still in my process of growing and it became the perfect reason to taunt, criticize and accuse me for every mistake and failure I made. Nevertheless. No matter how many times I have encountered these incidents I could never find enough anguish, sadness, anger, frustration or annoyance to scream out and say, "It's not my fault. What's wrong with making mistakes?"

Was it wrong to want to say your deepest feelings? Was it wrong to prove someone did something bad? Was it wrong to protect myself by using silence and truthful harsh words? Since that's all I can do… to keep others from being too close and not making blunders. I have to be able to stand without anyone's help. I have to be someone who can survive on their own. I have to be someone who will never be happy for themselves.

No matter how many times I say that, "It's not me." No one will listen. Nobody will attest to it and I am tired… Just so, so, so tired of trying to prove those who blame me wrong. It's unfair; I know and my friends know, but the "me" they're together with appears as a strong, determined, egoistic, sadistic female who laughs at what people call her. However, she's weak, introverted, defenseless and brittle from it all. A façade made to secure the thin line between friends who are truly and dead-honest friends to friends who are enemies aiming to ruin me.

If I trust someone does that mean that they trust me too? Even now, I don't believe those words. I can't believe them because time and time again, I been betrayed and left behind. It became natural for me to not reach for anyone's hand or expect anyone to offer their trust- their friendship to me. I learned to shut away my own personal feelings towards all those surrounding me and I felt that it did me good. I don't have to worry about betrayal or waiting to become a friend. Not anymore like when I was in fourth grade where I was sitting next to whom I assumed was my friend. She was a bit on the chubby side and had an accent but I felt that we could get along… That wasn't the case, one time we had to turn in our homework, I placed mine on our desk and searched through my bag pack for a pencil. Then I looked back on the desk and my paper was gone. I asked her and she said she did not even see my homework. Instead she had "her" homework sheet, an eraser and a black marker. The paper definitely was my paper because why would my homework disappear and hers magically appear from under the desk? That was just some crazy logic. I asked to look at her paper and she vehemently declined. She soon wrote her name on the paper and passed it. I saw the writing on the paper; it was pencil and this girl sitting next to me always, always writes in pen. I was not making accusations but that writing on the paper was definitely mine. I never even mention the event to our teacher. There was no use crying over spilt milk. From then on, I kept my paper close and never let anyone copy or steal it from me. If you get use why not use them first?

I live alone and work a part-time job. I requested to have my own place away from my relatives since long before they never noticed when danger occurs to me unless it's right before their eyes. They never noticed how hard I tried or how difficult it was for me to learn something. They never had known how much I waited and wanted their praises. I'm alright being alone and I can live on. I don't have to hear my parents get mad or my peers sigh. I'll be safe and sound without anyone's help at the moment. So I wish with all my broken and tattered soul to be just me.