The Diary of a Teenage Girl
Hello forum, you know me as Bronyette, but for all sakes and purposes you may call me Kylie. I'm an 18 year old girl who feels like she needs help piecing back together her life. I'm really sorry if this comes off as "emo" or "lame" but I'm recollecting my memories here.
People look at me and say I've had a perfect life. Beautiful house, nice TVs and other electronics, hot tub and pool, what people associate with a good life. And I have to admit... I do have a awesome life if you look just at those things. But material things really don't matter to me. I never really watch TV, save for MLP on Netflix, and I don't feel comfortable getting into the pool or hot tub.
When I was younger I was bubbly and carefree. I talked nonstop about anything. I loved animals and would spout random facts all the time. I was very much the Pinkie Pie of my class, except I didn't want to make friends really. I was just happy telling people about what I had learned about animals of all sorts. A few horrible life events kicked me down into the dirt.
I've had more than my fair share of horribleness in this world, and I want to try to explain the way I am. I NEED help with myself. I can't tell who I am anymore. All I can see is what I've pretended to be for most of my life. A tough guy. Someone that is emotionless and strong, someone who doesn't need friends.
For most of my junior high and high school years I didn't talk to anyone at all. Not even the occasional chatter. People broke me of that, I was to scared to say a single word to anyone. Maybe I would answer to a question every long while, but even that was rare. Teachers disregarded me and soon no one called on me anymore. I was no one. Sometimes teachers even marked me absent when I was there, this may seem not too bad... Until you realize my entire graduating class was 60 strong. 60 people, and the teachers I've had for years never bothered to learn my name.
I was bullied by the more "popular" kids; being called a dog. The only reason they picked this was because one time a book came down and hit me on the head and I squeaked out in fear. ((I do squeak and squeal a lot, it's really embarrassing. Especially when someone tickles me. )) The jerk that started it turned to me and asked if I barked. I said no. He ran with that and got half of the school to call me "dog" or "bitch" always they would idiotically say. "That's a female dog." I would just brush it off and not say anything, but for some reason it really got to me. Not because of the mean words being spoken, because people chose to try to hurt me.
The worst times though, were sitting in lunch by myself. I would watch all of the other kids have a great time talking to each other and just generally having fun. I would sit and read a textbook to look busy so no one would come to talk to me. I was too scared to even give most people a chance. Sometimes people would let me sit by them, but even then they would pick on me harshly, spitting snot into my drinks while I took up their trays. Horrible stuff. I wasn't ever cruel or mean, heck, I didn't even speak for the most part. They just picked on me for the sake of doing so.
One day some guy came up to me and asked if he could sit with me. Most others dragged me away to sit at their tables of hell, so I was surprised when he sat down beside me. He talked to me but soon found out I didn't answer. He smiled at me and said, "You must be one of those professional listeners." I remember this scored a giggle out of me, since it was so lighthearted, certainly not what I was expecting to come from this 'scary' scruffy older boy. This alone was the reason I wanted to go to school for the longest time. I started to mentally call him my best friend, never daring to say that out loud. After about a month or so he didn't show up. I was really upset, I thought he had left me too, just like everyone else. That lunch period was just like the previous ones, uneventful.
Later that day he spotted me in the hallway, and apologized since his lunch period had been moved to another one later in the day. Sadly, I was shocked he would even say anything to me out of lunch, much less say sorry. Isn't that pathetic?
I'm still friends with this guy, and now I can speak to him. He always reminds me how much I've grown as a person since that time. I'm now glad to tell him he's my best friend aloud.
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I will post more of my story at a later time, I'm hoping to return to the happy, carefree me of my past.
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