Post by vendetta on Mar 8, 2010 18:54:25 GMT 1
vendetta williamson.
Dear Journal,
Today has been a day the same as ever. Not a peep from me, and people staring like I've got an octopus growing on my head. It's quite hilarious really, because I've actually got nothing wrong with me. So what I can't talk? I just really don't know how to cope, I really want friends and even a boyfriend, but will that ever happen to me? The answer is no, and it has always been. Since I was twelve, but I had really hoped that people would be more open minded, because I know that was daddy did was wrong, and I don't think I could ever forgive him fro ruining my life, but I just try to go on as well as I can, hoping to meet one nice person that doesn't think I'm a freak, because honestly they don't know how much it hurts. I'm clever, and I'm nice and I don't see why they have to look at me like I'm scum. I just wish... I just wish that one day I could fit in, maybe find some friends and that boy of of my dreams, but that's all it is, empty wishes...
By then, Vendetta's tears had started to leak. Every time she wrote in her journal. She sighed, a long gust of air that was painfully soundless. Her pretty green eyes shifted to the sky, and her look was wishful, and sad. Almost heartbreaking, but Vendetta knew no matter how sad she was or whatever, nothing would change. She won't suddenly change, and that was a fact that she didn't want to admit, or wait for. Her thin fingers ran through her soft blond hair, almost in frustration. Her hands almost shook as she held her pen, and then her gaze was set on the darkness of that water's of the lake. She had heard that the Giant Squid lived there, and that always brought a pretty smile to her face, because it was so ironic. People were scared of it because it was different, because it's something that they don't see in their every day lives, but in Detta's opinion, everyone can get used to such a thing, even the imperfection that she had.
Her hand raised absentmindedly to rub the scar that had ruined her life on her neck. She remembered that day well, walking into the room, her father holding a knife. Her father had always been handsome, jet black hair and lovely brown eyes, none of which she had inherited. She remembered her dad starting to throw the knife at her beautiful mother, and then she jumped in. She didn't know why, it was as if a force had pulled her, so maybe there was no one to blame but herself. But she was excrutiatingally reminded of it everyday, people laughing at her and making jokes. The Slytherins bullying her merely because she can't scream, she still had bruises on her arms which she hid well. Another sigh. Maybe God wanted this for her, maybe she had done something wrong in her life and now he is punishing her, she wouldn't mind being mute if not for the harshness of people's reactions. She picked up her pen again.
I have to deal with reality, and reality hurts more than I care to admit. I'm sure my daddy regrets this his whole life, that's why he's quite drinking, but I've never written to them this year, not once. There's only one person in the world that I know for certain truly cares for me, and that's Dean. Journal, I don't know what on earth I would do without him, he's the only thing that keeps me living, and I didn't know that having a brother was ever that important, he looks past all of the imperfections and sees me, and I stay out of his way so that he doesn't get teased too much about having a freak sister, though I know that he'd take my side every time, but I'm sure that he just wants a normal life too, and I really want to change the past, maybe so that I wasn't born, then there would be no trouble. But the reality is here, and it's setting in. I want to live like a normal teenager, but I never will. Maybe in my next life...
Love,
Vendetta.