Come on It's just a talk

IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU? If you ask, it's because you have the answer.

The teachers always said to me: "why don't you talk? That's easy".Well, that's not easy for everyone. That's really really hard for me. When people just destroyed your life, how can they you speak? There's no answer for this. Even if in life, you're supposed to be positive, you can't always be. Sometimes, there's nothing to do. Work hard, play hard, doesn't mean anything to everyone. You'd say I'm negative, but that's my life. Magic doesn't exist. Life isn't pretty for everyone. So, if you say come on, it's just a talk, well, go beyond the human, and reach the humanity.

You might not care about my name because I'm just one girl from a few others. I have the same story to tell, so that might be boring. I feel just like maybe 500 000 other people anyway. I am just one among many others. So, yeah, that text is not easy for me to write, because I know this kind of story was told many many times.

Laura Samson. Laura no sound, they used to call me that way. I am this shy girl you'll find in a music classroom or in a library because I love music more than anything else, but also because that's my refuge. I am the one who hides in those places, dreaming about music, escaping from the real world. Why would I hide? Not for no reason. I have some. But I don't tell. I know what I risk. More I am giving reasons to people around, more I risk things. I know you might not understand, or you might ask yourself some questions. Well, I hope this will stay between us because you could ruin my life, and at all. I am not kidding, really not. So, please, if you have some respect for me, even if you don't know me at all, well, keep this secret.

My tongue hadn't always been stuck in my mouth. It wasn't cut too. And not even missing. A voice saying I was wrong and idiot had always been talking too much in my head, but never the way it turned. Silence was not my best friend before my best friend left me alone here: her parents had to move out to Africa for work, so she had to move with them. She was protecting me all the time. I had not to defend myself from the others, which weren't cool with me, for some reasons I don't know. Her leaving kept me awake too late in the night, with a strange feeling. School's monsters were haunting me during the night. So, my eyes kept open. The days were dark, the nights were clear. When she left for Africa during the summer, my mom told me it was going to be ok. I didn't tell her some people weren't nice with me because I knew, even if I was aged 8, that she was being bullied at her work. I didn't want to put more stuff on her, so I just kept the silence. Tears streamed down my face often, but I thought it would pass, and my parents too. But when my third grade started, everything became worse.

First day of school, the vomit was plentiful, but the twinge was less present because I had the summer to relax and think with a better point of view than at the beginning, when my best friend told me she was going to leave the country. I was ready to start to get new friends, but they weren't. Kids kept going in the way of bullying to drag me down. I was misunderstanding the whole thing. I didn't know what I was doing bad, why were people so mean to me, why they kept bullying ME... Why me?

The things were absolutely horrible. I couldn't even believe what was happening. They used to hit me so hard, so I couldn't breathe well. They used to throw things to me. They used to beat me up. They used to punch me right where it hurts. They used words that didn't have meaning to me. They used to tell horrible things on me to people who didn't know me at all. And it kept going. It never stopped. My breathe was always fast, heavy. I was running everyday because I didn't want them to get me. My eyes were narrowed, so I could see everything and see them come to hit me. I had time to leave as fast as I could. My cheaks were always wets, so my eyes were too.

I lost the usage of my dreaming world expression, so I got one other: music. The only way I could feel better was touching the notes on the keyboard. The notes were envelopping me, the world was falling down, calm, and I was arguing with my mind for more and more music. The more I play, the more my mind disconnects with the reality, so my heartbeat slows. Music takes me from one world to another. I am invincible playing piano. Nothing can stop me. I feel good, at my place. Where there is music, there's happiness. That's all.

Bullying never stopped after that: it was getting worse. I had no friends to protect me, and not to help me feel better. So, I kept getting better playing piano, and running. Run became another thing that happened in my life. Well, it happened because a girl was beating me up everyday, while we were going to her house for lunch. Her mother was my babysitter. Sometimes, she was punching so hard that I just ran away with my sister and her sister. I tried to protect them before me, because sometimes, she was hitting them as well. I ran faster everyday, so she couldn't catch me. Well, when I said I had no friends, it was true, but I almost got one. During that time the girl was beating me up, a girl used to talk to me a lot, even if I had always been really really really shy. When she was me bleeding, she told the principal what was happening to me. I had to tell her the truth about the girl and all the affair. I had to see psychologists, directors, and a lot more. I have seen so many of them that I could almost tell you all their names. People used to look at me in a cruel way. The girl didn't have any sanctions because she said I was mean to her, and she had too many problems. That's what supposedly caused her violent behaviour with me. People at school learned the things, and the girl who talked to me stopped talking to me because she thought I was a jerk. The teachers thought that too. Hiding up, I was hurt.

I finished my primary school, hated, beaten up, almost dead. My eyes showed the fatigue that habited me. Ghosts of schooI used to come in my bed at night. I was smiling to hide the truth, which was that death dreams came true. I finally thought nothing could be worse at the high school, so I went there confident, as my brothers told me to do.

I was wrong. High school is the most horrible place you need to go.

I started my high school in Marcelle-Mallet. On the first day, the first look someone gave to me was scary. I thought: "oh no, it's not going to happen again?". Well, everything was already done. Some girls,the same day, during lunch time, while I was going to the bathroom, closed the lights, took pictures of me and made fun of it. Some said I should change bathroom, because a boy wasn't allowed to get in the girl's bathroom. Some said I was so hideous I could have physical surgeries to be more pretty, but some said I was so ugly, so the changes wouldn't be enough to make me look better. The world was falling down beside me. Death was envelopping me, as my only friend. Days were dark, at nights were clear. Nothing else.

People, more girls than boys, continued to bully me, every single day. I couldn't feel anything now, because the tears had fell so much I didn't feel it. I head so many things, and I don't even know what I can say on this, cause it's pretty fucking hurting yourself. I felt like I had nothing to do with my life, I could go nowhere else than school, I was a jerk, a fool, an ugly ugly and ugly girl that completely merited what was happening. They told me that, so I believed them. And I still believe them.

I stopped talking. Nothing was going on. To get away from the pain, I because my heart was broken, I got into a silence that never ended. My parents were surprised, but didn't know what to do. My teachers were misunderstanding the whole affair, but they just got to a point where they got so mean. They were acting as if I had a handicap. They were watching me, but not watching me at the same time. They always wanted to know where I was, why I was acting like that: they wanted to find a why for everything, but they didn't much care at the same time. During that time, I failed my oral parts in every class. I failed at 30% my oral in English. My english teacher was worried about my grade, and about me. She wanted to know why I had panicking crisis, that became more and more pronounced. Having touble to breathe, not seeing well, not hable to speak a word, feeling like I was going to die, I can say I felt that way almost everyday. I can perfectly say why I don't speak English: some people told me I was bad, I had accent, I wasn't hable to speak, I didn't have vocabulary, I was a spineless loser... which might me true. Of course, it's true. I believed at them, and I still believe they are right.

At the same time, a girl started to talk to me. She was really nice, pretty, popular and talented. We were doing music together. It was fine between us: I think we both appreciated the other. But she was scared. I could feel the pain in the nails that scratched my arms hardly. The bleed was falling down easily. She knew I was hurt, but as a girl of 15 would have say, I think she was great to me. But my tears were to heavy for her, that's what I think. Her parents called my parents to warn me: if I talked to her one more time, they would call the cops. I had nothing else to do than leave her alone. I know she was obsessed with popularity, with her image, so that's why she maybe talked to her parents about me. But then, they did the job for her. Leave Laura there, she's a girl with problems, she will only give you that, or don't waste your time with that piece of shit, they said. Well, understood, I tried to kill myself. Not one time, many many times.

I spent 3 weeks in the hospital, which wasn't nice at all. When I came back, I was feeling a little bit better, but when people were all knowing what happened to me (because the direction spread the words), I just decided to change school. Bullying was stronger than ever. I took the decision rapidly, so I hadn't to think too much. The school year finished. I wasn't sleeping anymore, not eating anymore, not doing anything else than crying. I promised myself never crying again.

Summer passed so fast. I went to a musical camp, which I loved soooo much. The open injuries slowly covered up. Nothing was making me happier. For the first time in my life, I felt happy. I had friends, those you can count on, have fun with, but also memories that will always stay. I started to know which words to take, which things I loved, but also who I really was. But not for a long time, because this never stops. Never.

I can still feel their noisy filled breathe in my back, their eyes looking further than I could even do, always trying to find the perfect thing or moment to focus on. They are there, right in your back, when you think they aren't. You're never safe. I know they would find me, whenever I'd go. They are poison. So, teachers are too. Cause they think they see, they think they ear, they think they understand, but they don't know it. And at all. So, please, never judge before understanding someone. Never judge because you think an adult can understand, never say and think like the others. Never be mean to people. Because you never know what kind of followers they have.

The end.


Created with images by drippycat - "graveyard church crocus"

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