The Bond of Nothing

First and foremost- thanks for taking a little bit out of your day to read my article
Second- You believe what you want. This is to me what it is.

The Bond of Nothing

I was living every single day like the last; why does everyone hate me? My family, my friends, my teachers, my school, everyone I spent time around, disliked my presence. I’d wake up surrounded by those who despised me and would rather work instead of spend time with me. I’d get on the bus, get harrassed for anything. I’d get off the bus and be harrassed. “Get your life together you scumbag! How about you take this rope and hang yourself from the gym rope which you can’t climb.” My demons shouted. I kept quiet while remaining the same “joyous” self my peers called me.

You’ve never hit rock bottom until you’ve actually considered suicide. You’ve never hit rock bottom until you’ve considered leaving the world in which you are living to never find one that you will ever live in again.

I went through my classes day by day, or week by week seeming they all melded together due to lack of sleep and proper food and the same stabbing feeling of dreading the next day while you already were in that day.

Those who cared had left. Those who didn’t, didn’t. Those who didn’t made it impossible to make any vocalizations to them that you’re dying. Vocalization is impossible when your vocal chords are cut out along with your tongue. Those are my demons, the ones who dry my throat out with a vacuum and hold the water above my head. Those who cussed at me when I was 3,4,5,6 and so on. Those who forced me into a bowl of my own tears to breathe.
Those who raped me when I needed safety and comfort.

Day after day after day after day. Same cycle. Rinse and repeat. Until she came along.

There is a special bond between those who can’t breathe thanks to the poison that is their family and friends. A connection. A moment of understanding.

I could see her pain. I could feel her pain. She, the same. I still could not speak a word of truth because I have been hesitant to trust my entire life; just as she. Through the jet black smoke and tyranny of ill-will toward me I saw a little grey, then a little more. Then it was gone. We had that taken from us the second our dictators noticed any sign of help. Stripped of any light that was so close, yet so far.

We watched one another from a distance- We felt one another from a distance.

Life is cruel. So cruel that when we find something to pull us out of the dark, more dark comes. Especially when your light has been pummeled by a 9 millimeter round in it’s head with a note that read “Here lies the girl you all molested. The girl you hurt. The girl you told was not perfect. The one thing she had, you took. So here she is, in all she lived up to. She hoped you’re happy, because that’s all she ever tried to do.”

I wish I told her how much she meant to me, even though we never shared a word. I wish I let her know that I could be by her side instead of the note and the handgun. I wish I had stopped her, she was all I had.

Yet I had nothing. She had nothing.

In a way, I died too.