S*** happens. It always has and it always will there’s no avoiding it. I look down at the scissors in my right hand, and I glance at my wrist.

It’s early and I don’t want to face the day. I know he’ll weasel into what sliver of a good day I’m having and twist it to his pleasure. So why try in the first place? I sigh as I press the sharp, silver edge of the scissors in my wrist, quietly creating a new scar.

That’s when I become painstakingly aware of what is going on a floor beneath me. The screaming is so loud I can’t even hear myself think. I quickly pull my sweatshirt over my head to hide my wrists. I take a deep breath and like a soldier, I enter the warzone.
“James, take your medicine, please.” I hear my mother say in a very strained, very polite, voice.
“SHUT! UP!” He screams as he slaps her arm. James is eleven, it’s not his fault he’s this way, he has a disorder I can never remember the name of. I know that once he takes his medicine, he’ll be normal. It’s getting him to take it that’s the struggle. Suddenly his screaming turns into strangled cries and I bolt for the door, but not before I hear my dad yell something like “don’t-talk-to-your-mother-like-that” and I know I shouldn’t, but I look back. I see my brother’s face, not the monster he was a second before, but the hurt, scared little brother he used to be. I run before I have to see anymore.

As I slow to a fast walk, I look to my left and see Josh. He knows something happened, but he doesn’t ask. He corrals me forward towards school and we walk in silence. We’re halfway there when I see him.

I feel myself go rigid and my instincts tell me to run but my feet won’t listen. Josh can see the change and his eyes go steely as he searches for him. He steps in front of me protectively and after I push him out of the way and tell him to just keep walking. By the time we get to the school, I’m calm enough to act like nothing happened.

3 people know what happened to make me act this way, Josh, Olivia, and Jasper, and I’m not about to go tell anyone else. Jasper is standing against the brick wall, headphones in his ears to drown out the ridicule of the jocks surrounding him. He looks incredibly relieved when he sees Josh and me walking towards him.
“Get a life and go somewhere before I do something you won’t like. I don’t think you want to have to explain to your parents that you got that black eye from a girl.” I tell the jerks around him. I hear the leader of their little pack mutter something like “whatever” and then they shuffled away. That’s when I notice Jasper has his headphones out and he’s looking at me like I’m from a different planet.
“Jasper?” I ask him, confused. The wind blows, and for a minute his big black curls hide his eyes, which he wishes would happen all the time. He acts so much like a shadow sometimes I think he believes he is one.
“What happened?” Jasper asks. Leave it to him to see through my disguise. I sigh loudly.
“I…um…” I’m stammering, searching for an excuse, when he interrupts me.
“You’re kidding me, right?” He stares at me angrily.
“What? I didn’t even tell y-” He cuts me off.
“I know that look. Where is he, and can I kill him yet? Please? He’s ASKING for it Tori, and you know it!” He glares across the parking lot and I don’t have to look to know who he’s glaring at. Josh pulls at my arm and I don’t get a chance to answer Jasper. He gives me the “we-are-talking-about-this-later” look and he saunters off. I just nod, hoping he’ll forget, half-knowing he will.
Josh steers me away from everything and quietly whispers
“How bad?” The only people who know about my cutting are the people who know the reason I started doing it in the first place. I gather my thoughts enough to respond to Josh. I check that no one’s looking, and I push up my sleeve slightly so that he can see the cut, and it stings in the cold air.
“I love you.” He says quietly “And I think I’ve figured out a way to help you with this”
“I don’t need help.” I mutter as I stare at my feet.
“You do and you know it. None of us can stand this much longer. Not me, not Jasper, not Olivia, and I’m sure if Zach, Alex, and Zoe knew they wouldn't exactly love this either. Tori, this can’t go on forever. You can either change, or it’ll end up bad. Bad for you and bad for everyone else. This affects more than you realize.”

“Are you serious?” I stare at his too-blue eyes in disbelief. “Your mom?! You want me to talk to your mom, Josh? Why her?” I question his sanity for a minute.
“She IS a mom, and she understands more than you think.” He says all too calmly.
“Joshua.” I start. “For one, how would she understand the situation I’m in? For two, why would she talk to me in the first place? For three, what if my parents found out?”
“For one,” He says “Even if she doesn’t you need her more than you’ll admit to even yourself. She would never tell, or even think about telling your parents unless you asked her to.”
“But…I…these are my problems Josh.” I manage to say.
“Stop saying that. They aren’t just yours anymore. They stopped being yours when you told me. I’m worried about you, and I think you should tell Zach and Alex, and eventually Zoe needs to know too.”
I had forgotten about them, forgotten that I hadn’t told them. Zach is Olivia’s cousin who came to our school recently. Zoe is Alex’s girlfriend, and she’s close to Olivia and is slowly becoming close to the rest of us. Alex goes to a school near ours, and is a grade above us. He has struggled with some things not unlike what I’m going through now. As I realize this, I wonder why I haven’t told them yet. I feel myself giving in to Josh, I know he’s right but I don’t want to admit it. Instead I mumble maybe and walk away. I can sense his smirk while I walk back to my locker, I take one look and I know I was right about a certain weasel destroying and happiness I had before now.
Not that his insults really hurt anymore, I’ve heard them all. Sometimes I want to turn around and lash out on them. Scream, kick, anything. But I don’t do that. I do nothing. I learned from Jasper that silence is often the answer.

I stare at my faded sneakers with my head down and cross my fingers as I get to my locker. I try to wrench out my algebra book, but it’s caught on a dent on the wall of my locker. I finally manage, after quite a struggle. I spin on my heels in the direction of the terror that is Algebra, but my books are strewn across the floor and I’m eating dirt before I can take two steps. I brace myself for the insults as I start to stand up, but they come before I’m even on my feet. He doesn’t let me off my knees.
“You’re doing this at school now, too?” Cole sneers. “C’mon sweetie, at least do your sucking somewhere private. Bathroom maybe?” I hear laughter all around me as I roll my eyes.
It’s easy to laugh when you’re not the one being laughed at.
I’m starting to lose it. I’m still on my knees and Cole is moving closer to me with his hand on my head. That’s when a new voice joins the crowd, but this one’s not laughing.
“F*** off.” I hear Jasper threaten Cole.
“Make me.” I hear Cole say. I watch as Jasper walks over to Cole, towering over him.
“Don’t doubt that I won’t.” Jasper snarls without a hint of fear in his voice. Cole acts like he doesn’t care and he herds his posse to go watch cheerleaders. I scramble for all my books and Jasper lifts me up. He looks into my eyes, my stupid show-every-damn-emotion eyes and I know he can tell I’m not okay. He takes my hand and pulls me towards the class I’m supposed to be in. I figure he’ll be there to pull me to my next class when this one’s over. I have to wait 3 periods before class with Mrs. Jacobson, my favorite teacher.

I couldn’t say what happened in my morning classes. Algebra, Spanish, and History just weren’t important enough to hold my attention for very long. I focused on writing this. When I got to 4th period English, however, I put my journal away. I have Mrs. Jacobsen twice, once before lunch for English and once in the afternoon for Biology. English is my favorite subject, and she’s my favorite teacher. It fits. I have English with Jasper, Olivia, and Zoe. Mrs. Jacobsen also teaches biology, so her classroom has lab tables instead of desks, and jars of pickled creatures on the walls. Jasper and I walk through the door to her room and pass the jars.
I notice that there’s a starfish in one of the jars and I quietly name it Cole. Starfish are brittle, easy to snap the arms off. Live starfish regrow the arms, but the one in the jar is already dead. I picture Cole as a starfish trapped in a jar and I smile.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, T?” Jasper says, looking at me quizzically.
“Not telling.” I say smugly, still pleased with the idea of a Cole-starfish in a jar. I picture myself shaking the jar.
“Sometimes I wish you’d tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. It frightens me that no one knows what you’re thinking…” Jasper trails off and walks toward our lab table. I sit down next to him and pull out my English notebook. Zoe and Olivia sit in the table right in front of us and Jasper pokes Olivia in the back with a sharp pencil. She turns around and glares at him while Zoe snickers. I hear a group of idiots taking advantage of the teacher’s back being turned; I don’t want to know what’s going on.

At lunch the magnificent Olivia sits down next to me, looking like a rainbow with all of the colors she is wearing. Now I’m sitting between the human rainbow and the human shadow, wondering how we all became friends. Josh is sitting across from me, pretending his spoon is a dump truck, and Zoe is fixing her shirt and eating yogurt. We’re definitely…different.

As Josh and I are walking home, he asks me if I want to come over. Josh takes my hand and we walk around the street to avoid Cole’s house, because a few extra minutes of walking never hurt anybody. When we get there I open the door and it’s almost as if the world inside his house freezes. They all stare at me, before something happens on TV that is more interesting than a girl in yellow skinny jeans standing in their living room. I walk through, passing Josh’s older brother and sister. He’s distracted by the time I’m in the kitchen. I sit down at the table next to his little sister, Ally. She’s the same age as James. His mom finishes with the dishes and gives me a hug. This is strange, because I’m not a hugger and my own mother hasn’t hugged me in years. I’m not sure what to do, so I just awkwardly hug her back. Without hesitation she walks across the kitchen to the basement door. She opens it, “Come on Tori, I think we should talk.” God, I think to myself, when I get my hands on Josh…

When we get to the basement she plops down on the couch and gestures to the spot next to her.
“What’s up, baby girl?” She asks. I find this weirder than the hug, but I go with it anyway.
“Uh…” I hear myself stutter. This is weird too, and harder than I thought it would be. On top of that, I have no clue what to say.
“Tori, Josh hasn’t told me much. Just that you need someone to talk to. I won’t tell anyone anything unless you want me to. I’ll listen and give advice whenever I can.” This is just getting weirder, I think to myself.
“Well,” I begin “What am I supposed to talk about?”
“Another thing Josh told me,” She starts, this time I’m afraid of how she’ll finish her sentence. “Is that you hurt yourself.” That boy is as good as dead; I silently tell myself as I plan how to execute him, my daydream is interrupted because she has started talking to me again.
“I can imagine you’re thinking of ways to kill Josh.” She says. Is she a mind reader? “Trust me, I don’t blame you right now, but maybe you’ll change your mind when we’re done talking. Now, are you going to tell me why you hurt yourself?” I look at her eyes, and they’re full of worry. I can tell she cares, even though she barely knows me.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” I ask, feeling like a 6-year old whispering a secret.
“I promise.” She says. I take a deep breath, knowing this isn’t going to be easy. I think to myself, things can only get better, right? “Last year in the fall, things started happening that I’ll explain later, if you want, and I started cutting. I felt like a piece in his game. The person that made me do what I do knew I cut. He told people at school, and they all pointed and laughed, and called me vulgar names. That started a lot of fake concern from the school administration, and a cycle of therapy and frowning from my parents. They think I stopped cutting months ago.” I stop and have to catch my breath. When the oxygen is circulating properly again, it’s his mom’s turn to talk.
“Tori, I feel as if I’m missing a piece of information.”
“Which one?” I say, confused.
“You never told me what happened in the first place.” She states simply.
“Oh, that.” I’m trying to figure out a way out of this, when she interrupts me again.
“Tell me another time, you don’t have to right now. I think Josh could probably walk you home now, or whatever you’d like, just don’t go alone. It’s dark and you never know what’s out there. Oh, and Tori?” I turn around and she hands me her phone number. “Don’t hesitate, whenever you to talk, call me, text me, whatever.” I nod, she walks up the stairs and I follow. Josh walks me home and on the way he starts talking.
“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad.” He says matter-of-factly.
“For once Josh, you’re right.” I admit. He grins in satisfaction, kisses my nose, and pulls me along down the sidewalk.

I program his mom’s number into my phone. Not long after, I receive a text message. Josh must’ve given her my number, I think to myself. I slide my phone open:



MommaBear: We need 2 talk about the cutting Tori, you can’t avoid it forever.

I know I can’t, but I don’t text back. I figure I could use some sleep. I go to bed before I have to tackle tomorrow.

I wake up hours later and I hear howling. I groggily look over the edge of my loft to see my dog, Buster. He has decided that it is high time for me to get up and feed him. I laugh while he tries to climb up with his stubby front paws. I jump down; quickly pull on some old jeans, while dodging Buster who is nudging me down the stairs. I scramble down before he wakes anyone else up. I fill his food bowl and he wolfs it down without a second thought. He looks longingly at his leash hanging on the wall. At 6 AM. On a Tuesday. I sigh out loud, why not?

I slip on my sneakers and take him outside. We come back in half an hour later, frozen. He doesn’t want to go inside so he drags his feet. I yank his leash in, grab my backpack and fly out the door. Completely avoiding today’s conflict. I don’t mind that it’s freezing, or that it’s nearly 7 in the morning and I have to wait until 8 to leave with Josh. I walk to my old shed and sit against the wall that faces the alley. I pull off my backpack and take out my notebook to write. My neighbors don’t care and anything is better than being inside on a morning that everyone is home.

I sit outside until Joshua comes. He pulls me to my feet and hugs me for a little while because apparently I’m shaking, it’s so cold.
“Tori, it is 34 degrees.” He says sternly. “How long have you been out here?” He asks, with a worried tone in his voice.
“Not long, half an hour maybe.” I lie. “I’m fine, really.” He looks at me skeptically but doesn’t question anything.
We make it to school, Jasper’s practically a piece of the wall again today, and Olivia is far from it. She’s wearing every color under the sun, and six pigtails. I will never understand why, or how, but hey. She’s her and I’m me. I respect her for what she does.

Olivia walks up with Zach arguing over something useless. I stare at my feet. For some reasons seeing him makes me feel guilty. Jasper detaches himself from the wall, shakes his head and walks to the door.
I make it through the morning without incident. However, after eating what the school cafeteria calls “meat” I might not make it through the afternoon. Olivia notifies us at lunch that “our attendance is mandatory” at her house on Saturday. My mom doesn’t mind, so I’m in charge of picking up Josh and Jasper on the way.

The week flies by, and soon it’s Saturday. I find myself cramped in an old pop-up camper in Olivia’s backyard, with Zach, Jasper, Josh, Zoe, and of course, Olivia. I hear Olivia talking about how she and I met. In third grade she walked up to the smallest, shyest girl and asked “You’re small, are you a gnome?” Towering over me, I was terrified. I spoke up “You’re big, are you a wall of meat?” We’ve been best friends ever since.

There are two sections of the camper. One with a table and benches, and a couch. The other section has a bed. They’re separated by a door that folds down when the camper is taken down.

While Jasper, Josh, Olivia, and Zoe are talking, Zach pokes my arm and asks if he can talk to me. I nod and he walks through the doorway, sitting on the bed and leaving the door open. I’m not worried, he would never do anything stupid, and I know that Josh and Jasper wouldn’t tell him anything, and Olivia wouldn’t without telling me first. I follow him and close the door.
“So, what’s up?” I ask in slight confusion.
“There’s more to you than you let on, isn’t there?” Zach asks. I stare at him, and notice that his glasses are crooked on his face.
“What do you mean?” I ask, hoping this conversation doesn’t follow the same path as the one the other night did with Josh’s mom. He looks at me, and then he glances down at my arms.
“Tori,” he starts “Why have I never seen your arms?” Oh no. This is bad. This is very, very, bad. He reaches over and starts to push up my sleeve, I want so desperately to pull away, but I don’t. He pushes my sleeve to my elbow and stops. He traces the scars and the cut faintly then looks up at me. I expect him to ask why, but he doesn’t, at least, not right away.
He stares at my eyes for a minute and then he continues. “Do you know why I came to this town all of a sudden?” I faintly remember something, I thought it had something to do with being closer to his family, but I don’t say anything. I wait.
“It’s a long story, and I don’t think I should say it now, but I thought about doing that.” He gestures towards my wrist “But I didn’t. I was too chicken. Why do you cut? I mean, you have a future ahead of you. Why cut?” I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting that. I sit there, contemplating what to say next.
“Zach,” I start “Where did this come from?” Is all I can think to say.
“I care about you. I noticed you were extra-careful about people around your arms, all I want to know is why.” Zach says, straightforward. Do I tell him? I wonder to myself, or do I make an excuse? I decide to try the excuse path, first.
“Just stuff. You know the usual, not good enough, things like that. It’s no big deal, really, it’s not.” I say. He stares at me again.
“You expect me to believe that?” He says, suspicious.
“Can we pretend?” I ask desperately trying to avoid having to tell him, or anyone.
“No. You’ve pretended nothing’s wrong for a while Tori, and it’s time to enter reality.” I’m not sure how I feel about him saying this. But I’m still not ready to tell him the whole story.
“I dated a guy named Cole last year.” I start, but Zach interrupts.
“I’ve seen him around before, but I stayed away. He freaks me out.”
“ANYWAY.” I say, acting annoyed that he keeps interrupting me, even though it doesn’t bother me at all. “Some things happened, and one night he went too far. I got enough courage to break up with him, and a little while later Josh asked me to be his girlfriend.” I take a break to breathe. “I thought that by breaking up with Cole, he’d leave me alone, but he doesn’t and he hasn’t. He lives down the street from me, which makes matters worse. My house is a warzone 75% of the time, and I can’t go outside after school to avoid it because Cole will go outside too. There, that’s why.” I breathe again, but this time I’m finished.
“Who, besides me, knows?” He asks.
“Olivia and Josh have known since soon after I started cutting. I told Jasper about six months ago.” Suddenly I remember “Oh and I told Josh’s mom a few nights ago.”
“I don’t like that you cut, Tori.” Zach says. It’s now that I realize I need to stop.
All of the people who’ve told me that, I don’t know why Zach’s the one I listen to. He’s the one that makes me see that I need to stop, and I need to try harder than I already am. On my wrist, they’re all old scars, except one. I can blame that on a fall, or a tree branch, if I need to. I know better than to cut where people can see. My wrists are clean except for one. My hip, however, has 3 cuts and numerous scars. I don’t cut as bad as I used to, but I still do it. I didn’t know where to turn, but now I have a clue.
It’s April, and where I live, that means it could snow one day and be sunny and hot the next. I make myself promise that I will do 3 things before May 31st, the last day of school. Zach is staring at me, and I realize I never responded to him.
“I know, and I need to stop. But it’s hard, and I’m going to need help.” I say. We talk for a few more minutes before going out to join the others.

Nothing else happens that night worth telling. Jasper has a crush on one of Olivia’s little sister’s best friends. She’s in the same grade as Zach. Olivia is the oldest of 4. Kyra is 2 years younger, Lily is in the same grade as James, and Luke is going into kindergarten. On Wednesday of the next week, things start happening that are worth writing down.

As we’re walking home from school on Wednesday, Josh tells me that his mom wants to talk to me again, soon. Great I think to myself, great. Then I remember the promise I made to myself, and I have an idea. I tell Josh I’ll be over in an hour or so. I walk in to my house and it’s quieter than usual.
Then I realize it’s a Wednesday, James has basketball. I run up to my room and open my desk drawer to find an old crayon box. I find a pink one that I remember refusing to use when I was little, because it was pink. I smile to myself and pull the box out. The whole box is pink, and you can’t see through it. Perfect, I tell myself.

I walk around the backside of my house, so that Cole can’t see me come outside. I put the crayon box in my backpack and I walk towards Josh’s house. I knock on his door and Ally answers. She starts rambling on about the TV show she’s watching, and I can see she’s watching with her stuffed animal collection, and there’s no way I can fit on the couch. I keep walking and sit in the kitchen while Ally screams for Josh. He comes downstairs and tells me that he didn’t expect me to actually come over. His mom comes in from work and starts talking to me.
“Good, you’re here.” She says “Basement?” I open the door this time, walk down the stairs and sit on the couch.
“Before you say anything,” I start “I want to give you something.” I unzip the large pocket on my backpack and pull out the pink crayon box. I hand it to her. She looks at my quizzically while she opens the box.
“It’s all of my scissors, and razorblades.” I hear myself say, not knowing where the words came from. “I can’t cut anymore.” I tell her “I just can’t. I don’t cut as bad as I used to, and I figure that I can stop completely with help.” I finish, and then decide to add something. I gesture to the pink crayon box. “I can’t stop with access to those.” She smiles, and then hugs me.
“Another thing you need,” She says “Is an outlet. Something you can do besides cutting. Do you write?”

And so began this Journal. Sure, I’ve changed names, moved some things around so that it made more sense, but you know what? The things written in here have happened. Maybe you recognize something in this, maybe you are someone in here. I have to get this out. All of it or it will never be heard. My story will be forgotten, as so many like it have been. It’s not long; It is not any different than others. But this is my story, and I hope at least one person learns from it.

As I’m walking through the halls, it occurs to me that Cole hasn’t bothered me in a while. Then I realize I haven’t seen Cole in a while. He’s not in school. I get excited, where is he? When I get home that day, I look out my window. I see a For Sale sign in his window. Impossibly, things are looking up. I know Cole hasn’t bothered me for a while, and nothing as bad as he used to, and I decide that I’m ready to fulfill promise #2 that I made to myself that night in the camper. After school, Alex comes over.
“Alex, I want to tell you something.” I say, surprised at myself for being this gutsy. “Last December, a year and a half ago something happened.” He looks at me weirdly, obviously confused. “I dated Cole, remember?” He nods. “In the beginning, it was because I liked him. But that didn’t last long, and he wouldn’t let me out of it. That doesn’t sound right, I know. Cole is bigger than I am, with access to weapons no one want anywhere near them. He used to tell me that if I didn’t do everything for him that he asked, he’d hurt me. One night, I tried to leave, and he hit me. I decided that I’d listen to him. I was miserable and I started cutting myself, believing that there was no hope and that dying would be better than anything else.” He stares at me wide-eyed now. “Then, one night, he went too far. The door was locked, and no one else was in his house. He was pulling my hair and threatening more than ever. I yanked free of him in a moment of panic and I unlocked his door, and ran outside. I don’t know how I did it, it still doesn’t make sense to me how it all happened. When I ran outside, I ran into Josh. He had sensed something was going on that shouldn’t have been, and he was coming to check. I broke up with Cole that night, because Josh was helping me. I could never have done it by myself; Cole is stronger than I am.” He looked at me, speechless. I’m stunned that all of that came out of my mouth, but I’m thankful it finally did. I think to myself, half of Promise #2 is done; Promise #3 is the one I’m unsure of. Alex didn’t say much the rest of the time he was over, we watched mindless cartoons. He did, however, promise to help me. He had cut himself in the past, however, not for as long as I did.

Over the next month, I told Zoe that I cut. I didn’t tell her, just then, why I did. I told my Uncle, who helped as much as possible. Everyone understood more than I thought they would. I wondered why I never told them, how much easier it would’ve been, but everything happens for a reason.

It was time for Promise #3.

Maybe this journal isn’t as long as it could be, but it’s here. There’s a little bit more, but remember what I’ve said this whole time. Learn from it.

I walked into Mrs. Jacobson’s English class nervous. I was giving this to her that day. It was written in a spiral bound notebook, in “Chicken-scratch” handwriting as Jasper would say. I didn’t know how she’d respond to all of it, but I had my mind set on giving it to her anyway.

I handed it to her, and asked her to read it, if it was possible. She said of course, and I sat down at my lab table, jittery with nerves. Maybe it seems odd, that I was so willing to give this to a teacher. She’s different, I told myself. She’s not going to be mad, she’s an English teacher, she will read it. I was nervous and I couldn’t think until 3 days later when Mrs. Jacobson asked me to come to her classroom in the afternoon, when she didn’t have a class.
I had a music class that hour, and as I walked across the school to my English classroom the thought occurred to me that I had no clue what I was doing. The journal wasn’t written the way it should be, and the whole point of this was stupid. She’s going to tell someone that I cut, I thought to myself, or she’s going to make me tell her who Cole is. A thousand thoughts went through my head in such a short time, and before I knew it, I was in her classroom holding a hall pass and looking like a complete idiot.
“Tori,” She said without looking up. “Come back here for a second.” Her desk, unlike in normal classrooms, was at the back of the room. I shuffled to her desk, not picking up my feet.
“Is this all true?” She asked
“Yes.” I stammered
“So, you cut yourself?” She said. I knew this was coming.
“I used to, I don’t anymore, I have overcome that.” I say, not believing that those words came out of my own mouth.
“I’m not the only adult who knows this, am I?” She asks, worried.
“No, my parents knew when I did, the school administration did, and so did Josh’s mom.”
“So, that part of the story is true, too?
“Of course it is.” I say.
“This is fantastic writing. Have you written anything else? Poetry?” She asks. It takes me a minute to process that she called my writing fantastic. I was about to say that no, I haven’t written anything else, when I remembered a night, months ago, when I couldn’t sleep late at night. I had taken out my notebook and written a poem about Cole.
“I wrote a poem, once. It’s not any good though, and I wrote it at 2 in the morning.”
“Can I see it?” She says, almost hopefully.
“Sure?” I say, slightly confused as to why anyone would want to. I zip open my backpack and pull out my notebook. I rip out this poem.
I look at her and mumble “It’s called ‘Someone’.”

I was blind
All I saw was me
My thoughts, my problems
But looking back now, I can see

See everything I was put through
All of my pain
Was all just for you
For your personal gain

All of my fears
All because of you
All of my tears
You claim those too

I was so vulnerable
Inferior
But you were so strengthened
Superior

All of my nightmares
Suddenly true
All of my haunting scares
All because of you

You didn’t realize
Your torturous little game
Gave you a terrifying upper hand
By merely mentioning my name

Through it all
I’d say thank you
To the one who made me fall
You changed me, just not the way you wanted to

You strengthened me
With all that pain
Looking back I can see
Reward for the strain

All because of you
I know who I am

I am someone unafraid of people like you
Someone knowing of the pain others go through
Someone strong
Someone unafraid of being wrong
Someone you can never again change
Someone you’ll never be
Someone
Like me

“This is really, really good Tori.” She says as she smiles at me. It surprised me that I had to show her my poem today; it surprised me even more that she liked it. She called me back to her desk the next day during my English class to tell me that she’s looking for a contest to enter my poem in.

There you have it, that’s my story. It’s not much, it’s barely anything. But, it’s there. Do you have a story to tell? Get it out there! You'll be glad you did.