Nothing but a Memory

An eight year old who hates herself. An eight year old who loathed everything about herself. An eight year old gasping for life.  I was that eight year old. The eight year old,  tied with chains and thrown into the ocean of self hatred to die. The eight year old who felt useless, with an angry unfathomable .  

Second grade the year of growth and learning. A year of friends and heartwarming moments. An uneventful year for “normal” kids. I am not “normal”. I am dumb, immature, lacking in ever aspect of life, a burden, a kid that just does not get it, and a kid who is stupider than four year olds. That's what an educator of children told my parents and the young impressionable child who felt unwanted and undesired. Little did my judge know. Something more than an “abnormal” misfit lurked deep in the ocean of despair that threatened to drag her  down to the place of no return. Everyday she wrapped tighter around the young girl. Everyday she drowned that small child, gripping her iron chains around and around  until no life could get past her hideous unrelenting grip. 

The ocean won many battles and almost won the war. But I had unforeseen fighters lurking deep in their own caves. Waiting to come out, waiting to save me from the darkness that was taking hold. Waiting for that young miserable girl to voice the darkness. To replace the all consuming blackness with a light that will forever be there. My parents fought the chain holder and fought the darkness cocooning their once carefree daughter. My heroes brought me back to the light and broke the chain that held me down. My warriors waged a war to save me from the relentless darkness. A war that found the brilliant young girl lurking too deep for any monster to find. My saviors got me diagnosed with what many call a hindrance. My learning disabilities. My guardians gifted me with unrelenting love. A love so strong the chain holder could not keep hold. A love so powerful, so forceful, so bright, that the darkness recoiled. An invisible hand of a powerful love ripped the darkness from my mind. Telling me everyday until I understand and believed  I was needed, I am smart, I am loved, I am needed, I am smart, I am loved, I am brilliant, I am who I need to be, and I will change the world. I am Samantha Kline.

Even with unrelenting love, the darkness still reaches with a hand of dark abyss grasping at the light that shines brighter than stars now illuminating the once dark and unruly ocean. An ocean of nightmares now an ocean of light, hope, and love. Without my parents' love, that all consuming ocean of darkness, anger, and hatred would have taken me into his grasp and dragged me down to a point of no return. Everyday is still a battle, but I have my warriors to hold me up and take me off the battlefield. I can still see that little eight year old, angry and miserable, looking at me with eyes lined with silver and cheeks flushed red standing on the battlefield waging a war she cannot win alone. But one day, when my bloody open wounds of battle are only scars, I hope to see her smiling back with eyes of light and hope. One day, I hope to see the young misfit look at me with a face full of pride. I hope to see her vanish into mist with eyes of triumphs. I hope one day she has peace and knows that the darkness that once lived in her is now nothing but a phantom memory, nothing but a memory, nothing but a memory.