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Unlovable Child (chapter 1)

by leaseal

Have you ever felt like you are just not cut out for this world? I know I have well I do. I know it’s not good to feel this way, but it’s kind of hard not to. See I’m the girl who sits in the back that tries to stay unnoticed because any time I am noticed I get yelled at or cussed at. I’m also the stupid one that never passes any of the tests in any class. I try so hard to pay attention, but I it’s like the teachers are saying blablabla. Like right now I am in math class right now with Mrs. Baker she’s so beautiful she has long blond kind of wavy hair, her eyes are a green they are so pretty. “Faith are you paying attention?” I was kind of startled but managed to say, “uh yeah.” She just looked at me with her hand on her hip then she smiled and said,” OK then come do this problem on the board.” I probably looked like a dear in headlights then I said, um I um fine I wasn’t paying attention I’m sorry.” She just sighed and said, “I’m sorry too because you have detention tomorrow after school.” I hate Mrs. Baker not because she’s hard on me but because she’s so pretty all the guys in school talks about how hot she is. I feel like if I had her body someone would like me, or maybe I wouldn’t be so unlovable. When the bell rang to go home I was so happy, I bet I was the first one out of the class room. My bus driver Mr. Mickey makes me sit in the back of the bus because he says I’m too ugly to sit anywhere else. As soon as I walked into the house Dad said, “Your math teacher just called?” i couldn’t breathe. See my Dad hates getting calls from the school. He went on to say “how many times have I told you to pay attention in class so you at least act like you’re not a stupid retard?” I just look down and said, “Too many to count sir.” “Go to your room and wait for me I will be there I soon as I finish my cigarette.” I said, “Yes sir,” as I walked by him he spit on me. I sat on my bed shaking because I’m so scared of what he will do to me, last time he got a call from the school he gave me 50 lashes with his belt. When he entered my room he told me to come with him by his finger. We walked to the kitchen I saw the burner was on low, but nothing was on the burner. Dad looked at me then smiled and said, “Put your arm on the burner for five seconds.” No! Dad please no! I screamed He slapped me then grabbed my arm and held it on the burner I screamed from the pain he finally let go of my arm. After the punishment I had to clean the house, than go straight to my room. I hate having to stay in my room because I start having flash backs of all the punishments he has given me like when I told him I hate him, he broke my arm over his knee. All the memories are getting too hard to handle. I grab the knife I hide under my bed and cut myself five times, and watched the blood run down my arm. The blood feels warm and it’s kind of comforting. After calming down I washed my arm off, and put the knife under my bed. I started talking to God, “I know you’re not listening to me but I need to talk to someone besides it’s your fault any way. Why haven’t you made my mom come get me yet? Why do you let my dad hurt me? Why haven’t you called your angles to come take me home? If you really loved me you would haven’t done at least one of those things by now. I guess you can’t love me can you because all I am is an unlovable child. Why God? Why make me, did I do something wrong? Before I could ask God anything else dad room and gave me a piece of bread and said, “Here is your supper now go to bed.”

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8 Reviews

Points: 1004
Reviews: 8

Mon Jun 25, 2012 8:03 am
esoteric wrote a review...

this makes me horribly sad as it brings up some dark thoughts of my own... :(

*self-pity intermission*

you have a lot of run-on sentences where a period would work better than a comma.
it feels like a bunch of jumbled emotions and flashbacks and present-time dialogue which is hard to follow because your piece is one big paragraph. perhaps breaking it up would help. then again, it may just be your thoughts flowing out all at once and that's how you'd rather write it- like a blank page just so you can vent everything.

i won't assume to know anything so...

happy writing, and i hope you find more pleasurable things to write about in the future!


A day without sunshine is like, you know, night.
— Steve Martin