Hi! I just want to post something this week, so sorry about the updates. :(
I have a tough one to share today. So the warnings may be a bit harsh again. (Granted I'm not graphic, but I know how hard it is. I mean, I can't watch Pet Sematary because of like one scene without crying.)
I've felt low for a long time. I'm wondering if that's just who I am now.
Characters: Dainin and Christophe (It's in first person, but just so you know who's there...)
Warning: Strong Mentions of Physical Abuse, References/Mentions of Bullying, Depictions of Depressive Symptoms, Possible Dissociation?, Possible Eating Disorder/Maladaptive Eating?, Blood Mention/Depiction, Slight Self Harm, Anxiety Attack, Suicide Idealization
Summary: Dainin had lived at Great Graces Orphanage since he was a baby, left behind by his mother. This isn't the best place to grow up. Looking back, he wonders how this place was even legal to run.
Also: I don't hate the adoption system. Please don't consider this the norm for these type of situations. Yes, there are some bad situations, but I really hope that this type of neglect isn't a thing.
ALSO: If you or someone you care about is going through Depression, please talk to someone:
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-8255 (TALK)
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I grew up in a place of strangers. People who could have been family, ones that you could trust. It just wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was the kids that were here one day, gone the next. They were snotty, rude, loud brats, and didn’t want to be nice or fair. Why be that way when life wasn’t? It was far easier to be cruel and pick fights with each other. Loneliness could have forced my hand. It could have, but it didn’t. Being on the bottom of the totem pole, all because I didn’t fight back. I just wanted to be alone at this point.
I was the main target for a long time. My skin bruises easily under the slightest pressure and it was easy to press my buttons to upset me. Why were they like this? I didn’t want to understand anymore, especially after my repeated attempts at making friends with them burst into flames. Was I so terrible? What did I do specifically that made them want to hurt me? The adults just looked at me like I was a damp dish rag. All just for having a plain face, ugly drab hair, and a weird stare. They just left me alone with them, not caring what they did to me.
After a while, I started to notice that something was wrong with me. I wasn’t eating or sleeping. I’ve stopped caring about the welts and beatings I received. Was this survival? I don’t know. I am alone now. They left me alone. It wasn't fun anymore. I was finally alone.
It was because you came. You came to bring joy into their lives. I didn’t feel any of that joy. They looked at you, excited to see a new face. Excited to see the bright, lovely blond, blue/green eyed boy that shouldn’t be in a dump like this. He was going to be adopted by a rich family, they all said, agreeing with their hive mind. Even the adults were taken in by the polite persona you adopted, just to please them. An ugly emotion bubbled up. I didn’t know the name of it. It felt weird. Somehow, I felt it had to be an act. No one is that nice, or wonderful, or happy. You were here for a reason. You were dumped here just like the rest of us. I’ve seen that look in others before: some kids just don’t believe that their life has changed that dramatically. They think these adults are here to help them, but instead they only help themselves. I wondered selfishly how long it would take you to realize this. Maybe you already have, but are deluding yourself. How long would it really take for you to bloody your soft knuckles? How long until I became your victim, simply because I don’t fight back?
Except you didn’t do any of that.
It took some time on your part. You would glance at me from afar, with your little group, just looking. I didn’t know what to think of it at first. Though it was a lot better than you hurting me, so I just let it happen, looking away as our eyes met. You must have been gauging for a reaction. You might have been deciding how you’d bully me. If I wasn’t so curious about you too, I would have thought about my safety a bit more.
Today, you were pulling them off of me. I could tell it was you, because you were telling them to back off. They argued with you, taunting you, asking you why you wanted to protect me. I pulled myself into a ball, ignoring the bruises that were no doubt growing under my rib cage. You must have done something bad to them without talking because they cursed at you. I didn’t care much, as long as the stinging stopped.
“They are gone now.” You mumble. I hear you squat down. “Do you want me to get some bandaids?”
“No.” I whisper. I don’t want to talk to you. I just want you to go away. I want to be alone. I don’t realize how fast I am breathing. I am pushing you away, knocking you down from your position, causing you to fall to the floor. You yell out, surprised. I want to run, but my ribs hurt too much. Instead of apologizing, or running, or doing anything else, I just stare, panting. Instead of running away from you, or hurting you to get away, I just freeze.
“Oh...” You stop yourself, eyes widening. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you anymore. They took that too far, you weren’t doing anything to them.”
I can’t answer, but I look away. I just started to think, finally calming down a little. I suddenly wondered why people wanted to meet angels. Why the faithful, down on their luck, would be aided by the messengers of God. I could only stare, off to the side, at the halo of light that your hair made when you talked to me. One that I could only start to see, as you tried to smile comfortingly at me. I only bit my lip, until it bled, thinking about the lighter under my mattress, my one comfort in the world. This surprised you. You hastily grab a tissue from the box at your side, dabbing my lip, noticing how I shook as you took care of me. You looked like you wanted to ask if I was alright before, but you could see that the answer was plain to see.
“Your name is Dainin, right?” You ask gently, sitting down beside me, so I didn’t have to look at you head on.
“Why are you so nice to me?” I ask instead of answering. I pull my knees up to my chin andlook away from you.
“You act like you don’t deserve it.” I can’t stop shaking; I don’t want to cry in front of you. I failed.
“I don’t- I don’t deserve anything nice.”
“That’s a lie.” I turn to face you for the first time, since you sat down with me.
“Of all the people I’ve met here, you deserve it the most.” A deep sigh comes from you.” The other kids here are brats! They just get all over you and expect you to let them. Have some class!” You snort unceremoniously. I just look away. “You, on the other hand, Dainin.” You pull my attention to you, again,”Are a gentle, kind, intelligent person. You just need to have a little space and time and l-love to get on your own level! You are better than them in almost every way. Don’t let them tell you that you are trash!”
“That isn’t tru-true.” The tears are flowing freely now. Hands reaching for comfort in the shape of cold metal, ones that they can’t find. We’ve only known each other for such a short time and you are already lying to me. I’ve been lied to my entire life, but this one, full of positivity and kindness, hurts so much more. It hurts. I want to be alone.
“It is and I’m going to keep staying by your side until you believe it.” Your face scrunches up into an emotion I can’t recognize. “Can I give you a hug, or something? We don’t have to do it, if it makes you feel uncomfortable-”
I cut you off. I grip you in the first hug I have ever sought out in my life. The warmth of your sweater. The rapid beating of your own heart, one that I can feel due to how hard I am squeezing you. All the while, I am crying, tears bleeding down my own face. I hate being so weak. I hate having these weird feelings. Feeling so lonely. Feeling hurt. I felt it all in your arms. All at once. I started to hear you sniffle, letting out those bottle up feelings on top of mine. Being abandoned by your mother, while I never knew mine. Being so unlucky, that we, the both of us, were lost to society. In a place that I hated, that you were beginning to hate, I learned what it meant to be supported. I learned what it meant to lean on someone. What it meant when people talked about unconditional love for another person.
I was only nine years old when I wanted to end my life. I sought comfort in knowing that it could all be over. But you wouldn’t have that. At the end of your rope, abandoned by some woman who was not your mother. You couldn’t bear to see me in such despair. After only a few months of knowing you, you knew that you couldn’t leave me alone. And so, as you wanted, I am not alone.
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This was half vent/ half attempt at a supportive thing I need to hear fic. So I'm going to watch kitten videos...or go to sleep it's 2am almost. Get some sleep! :O
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Find me on the web~030
- forgottenheartache (official blog)
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- whatami94 (personal-ish depression blog)
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twitter: @scaredygiraffe (rant/depression and like blog)
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