The Outcast's Story

Lydia Jo

High School, they say it is the best times of your life. They say you make friends and you find your own little place, and you walk on the path to the rest of your life. High School, they said it was such a glorious place. It looks so great on the television. They glamorize it and ignore those who are hurting. They ignore the outcasts.

High School is great if you know what you want to do for the rest of your life. Too bad that's not me. I'm the type of girl who hates it here. I look different, I listen to non-mainstream music. I get weird looks, and people whisper. To them I look like a psycho who lost it. But the sad reality, I'm just like those judgmental people. I keep to myself now-a-days. I try to think of the happier days, the days when I felt significant. The days when I thought I had a purpose. The days I had, with the in crowd.

I used to smile and laugh a lot, I used to be able to take a joke. I was getting over the grief of my boyfriends death and ready to take on moving forward in life. To be a journalist. However, October crept along. Then came December. The once happy me, turned into a little monster. Four months, I thought I found true love. He was a Junior in HS, and I was a freshmen. However, he never loved me. He raped me, then left me there feeling worthless then I had in my whole life. The relationship ended and I was not allowed to speak to him. In fact, I didn't wanna speak to anyone.

I found silence to be quite comforting, I found the sight of my own blood to bring me peace. Yes, after I was raped, self-destruction became my hero. I was miserable, I was so lost. I didn't want to live. I almost committed suicide a month after the rape. If it wasn't for music, I wouldn't be here. But still, after that I tried to be happy. I found a girl who was raped too, we both became best friends. I loved her as if she were my own sister. We were friends, friends for the summer. then along came October. She dropped me. Claiming I lied about cutting and wanting to commit suicide. This girl, saw my scars when I wanted to die the most. She saved my life. Then she betrayed me. She left with no shame.

Then, my silence came back. I cried more and I started to self harm ever more. I lost her and the majority of my friends. I was alone. I felt incomplete. Its been 2 months since she and the others left, I smile a little now, not as much as I did back then. I'm not like the rest of my student body. I'm an outcast. A liar who doesn't tell people everything. I dress differently. Combat boots, and black cut up leggings and a baggy sweat shirt.
I hide my scars.
I hide my life behind this plastic wall.
I hope someday, I can just fade away..
away from a place, where children shout demonic things.
telling me I'm useless,
telling me that nobody loves me.
telling me that I need to kill myself.

Someday, I might just take their advice. They only see what they want too see. An "Emo Faggot" in there way. They don't know me, they will never know me, I'm just that one outcast, everyone wants to avoid.