Backwards

I wasn't always this way. I used to be outgoing and fun. My friends said I was the greatest. They always wanted to hang out at my house; then again, I was the only one with a trampoline.

Then one day it changed. And it wasn't just all at once like things tend to happen. It was slow. Excruciatingly slow. A shell started to grow. Not break. Grow. I was being wrapped up, like a present for under a Christmas tree, but with much sturdier wrapping.

I started doing less and less

I'd decided I'd rather be at home or in the library where no one would bother me. I read so much, people wondered how I kept all the stories separate. I felt like my life was boring compared to the stories I read. I did my homework and did fine on tests, but my grades weren't what they used to be.

I wasn't broken or cracked. I was whole again. I had my shell back. I was always a shy child but this was different.

I'm backwards. That's all there is to it. I've always felt different. I've never belonged.

I didn't ask for this to be my life. I didn't ask to be alive. Fate is a cruel bitch. Now I have to find a way to break out of this shell. It's hard. Like rock. But it won't break. Like cheap plastic.

I want to be set free. I hate being confined. I'm not the kind of animal that needs locked up. If I'm a bird, I need to fly. If I'm a lion, I'm not meant to be stared at through a cage.

But I need help. I don't think I can get out alone. I know I'm strong but this shell makes me feel week, vulnerable.

Someone help me. Please.