Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Thoughts of the Unremembered

“Why are they laughing? Are they laughing at me? Why? What did I do? Is it because I look weird? Yeah, that’s it. I must look funny. But, why me? Am I such an easy target for laughter? Why did it have to be me? How come I wasn’t enough? How come he always left me for someone else? Why couldn’t I be what he wanted? Because I’m stupid. I don’t know who he wants me to be. He could’ve said something. He should have told me. Wait--what am I saying? I’m the dumb one. I should know how he wants me to be, and I should change accordingly. It’s all my fault he hates me now. She never answers me. Why not? Does she not like me anymore? But, why? I need to know, I need answers. Just leaving me without answering isn’t helpful. Why am I worrying about it? It must have been something I did or, she would be talking to me...  Right? What if she never liked me? Is this going to be second grade all over again? Why did she fake it? How come she couldn’t just tell me she hated me before pulling me along? Am I that annoying? Why did I trust her? She was good at covering herself. And I trusted her again. I must be an idiot. A normal person wouldn’t give that a second chance. But, why? Why me? Why not someone who had friends before? Am I that easy to manipulate? I must be. I fell for her trap. I guess I was so lonely I would believe anyone? But, why? How come he picked her? He had known me longer. And why did she say yes? She knew I had feelings for him, even if it was a schoolgirl crush. Why did they abandon me after? Maybe because I was always the third wheel? But, he was so kind before… I don’t understand. But, she said I was her best friend. I was the first person to open up to her. Why did she leave me for him? Was I not good enough? Am I not good enough? Why have they forgotten me? I must have been like an ulcer to them. Yeah, that explains it. The reason they seemed to hate me once they got together--I had feelings for him, she was his girlfriend. But, why did I cry? I had no chance with him. He was popular and I was that dumb girl who always asked questions trying to get the teacher to like me. I must have been a nuisance. Do I bother anyone? Why don’t people tell me when I get annoying? I must annoy a lot of people; they always leave me. Maybe I’m not supposed to have anyone? Probably. Am I meant to be alone? Is there a reason people give me ugly stares? But, are they even looking at me? It feels like they are. They have to be looking at me, there’s no other reason to laugh. But, why? Why can’t I just grow up and get over it? Why is this so hard for me? How come I don’t understand? Why doesn’t anyone tell me anything? Why am I alone? How come I’m the ugly one? Why couldn’t it be someone else? Someone without crippling anxiety? Someone that didn’t care about fitting in so badly? A person that could live with themselves, knowing how they looked to others? Why do I care? I don’t--yes, I do. I care too much. But, why do I care? Do their opinions matter that much to me? Yes, no, I don’t even know anymore. Why am I obsessing over thoughts like this? Is it because I don’t want to be me? Yes. No. Who? Why can’t I just be like them? Was it that hard to make me normal? I stand out so much, I hate it. Being different is good, though, right? No. Yes. Why is it so hard? Everyone is the same so, why can’t I be like them? Is it because of my ugliness? I don’t know. I want to know. So, why can’t I?  How are they so popular? They’re all jerks, I don’t understand. Is it because they’re all jerks? Maybe? Why is it me that’s left out? Always the last person picked? The girl no one wants to sit beside? Is it because I smell bad? I don’t understand why everyone hates me. Why won’t someone point out my flaws? I need them validated, so why can’t someone do it? Is it that hard? I wish someone wouldn’t deny that I’m ugly, that I’m stupid, that I’m unwanted. Why can’t someone do it? Why am I the one with anxiety? Why couldn’t it be him? How come I, the child that always has to give speeches, is the one who can’t without stuttering, sweating, choking on nothing? Why do I care so much? I could just not think about it. But, I can’t. The nervousness, the tears, the shaking; I wish it would just stop. I need it to, I want it to, I can’t make it stop. Why can’t I make it stop? Why is it so hard to cope with? Why couldn’t it be him with the social impairment? Blank, blank, blank. Hooves stomping, a stampede. White static, buzzing, an empty mind. I can’t think, I can’t concentrate. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop. I need to focus. Why can’t I? I can’t stop it. Unfocused stare, can’t see, incomprehensible. Stop and focus. I would if I could. But I can--no I can’t. Homework, done? I did it, yes I’m sure. Why don’t you trust me? Buzzing, stumbling, voice. Spinning, confusion, weak knees, blank head. Bang, a wall. Crash, a floor. Yelling, crying, make it stop. Dream, dream, nightmare. Bolt awake, panic. Wide eyes, hammering heart. Why can’t I stop shaking? Why is my face wet, the blanket, the pillowcase? No, stop crying. Stuffed nose, splotchy face. Red eyes, tired eyes, need to stay awake. Why? Will I use this in real life? What if I don’t become an author? What if I can’t? What will I do then? How can I turn away from a dream I’ve always tried to follow? How do I find something else to do? Why is it me who can’t figure myself out? Does anyone think like this? Probably--wait, no, yes, maybe? Why am I so worried about it? I could just forget it. Can I? Why can’t I? I was always alone at recess. Why didn’t anyone else want to play with me? Why did everyone stay away? How could they let my personal space bubble grow so large, too large? I can’t be near too many people, the bubble, too big. Unwelcome anywhere, welcomed everywhere, what’s the right answer? Stepping stones that swung, evacuated by children, all but one. Single girl, content with herself. But, why? Why was I so joyful being alone? I can’t stand it now. Go away--no, come back. Don’t leave, leave me alone. Don’t touch me, I want a hug. Can’t you see I’m busy, I’ll make time for you. Why am I so confusing? Why can’t I make up my mind? Stay, leave, come, go? Love me, hate me? Leave. Come back. She hates me. Why can’t he like me back? Why won’t she notice me? She so skinny and pretty, why can’t I be like her? Mental breakdown, physical breakdown. Get over it. Pull yourself together. Crisis, panic. Stop moving, stay moving. Leave, stay. Comfort, death. I can’t decide, and why not? Burning, red face, heated skin. Who’s watching me, listening to me? Am I saying my thoughts out loud? They must think I’m crazy. Wide eyes, scared stares. A group in front of me, laughing as one tells a story. Why couldn’t they include me? They’re the ones who preach about including everyone. Why did she give me that look? The sneer, the stance, I’m unwanted, excluded again. Find a partner. Oh, no. Panic, chatter, three lone desks around me. No one wants me as their partner? Am I not smart enough? Is it because of how I look? Are my clothes misleading? But, why does it matter? It doesn’t but, it does. Do I scare people away? They must not understand. No, it’s my fault, isn’t it? But how? What did I do? I don’t know, do I? Have I known what I did to force people away? But, what if I don’t?  What if it doesn’t matter? One soul, one heart? God, heaven, hell? Do they exist or are they fairytale? Why does it matter? I does, but not to me. Or, do I care? What happens when we die? Only the dead know. I hate it, I want to know. This isn’t a game, there’s no pause button. But, who would miss me? Simple noose, simple knife. But, no. I can’t, I won’t, will I? Yes. No. Yes. No. I can’t kill myself. I won’t. That’s what they want, right? I won’t give them want they desire. Will I? No. Scared, fear, blood. Why do they make me do things I can’t do? Give blood, but I can’t. You should know, but I don’t. Why won’t you tell me what I did? Why do you only blame me? How come he’s the favorite child? He does bad stuff, too, you know. But you don’t. You’re blind to him. He’s an angel, isn’t he? Tattle, yelling, crying. Either way, I end in tears. Why can’t you love us equally? I was the only planned child, right? Or did you lie again? But he can’t do it, but can’t he learn? Is it because of the autism? Is that why you care too much for him and not enough for me? Why can’t you understand I can’t do things like he can? I’m anxious, get over it, but I can’t, yes you can. Why don’t you understand, why won’t you? Order for yourself, I guess I’m starving because, I can’t. Why are you angry at me? It’s not my fault, is it? I didn’t take it, he did. Why are you yelling at me when it’s him who should be in trouble. Why doesn’t anyone care about me? Go get the belt, go kill the bug. Can’t you see I’m scared? You didn’t hear me weeping last night? Of course not, you’re deaf to my problems. He comes home in tears, you comfort. He feels ill, he’s rushed home. When I’m depressed, I’m told to get over it. But, why? Why don’t you understand I can’t think, can’t understand? It’s hard, no it’s not. I need help, stop getting me to do it for you. Why do you always think I’m trying to get out of something? Can’t you see I need help? Why am I the ignored one? Why don’t my teachers like me? Is it because I try too hard? Why do I get stressed over things like this? I don’t care, yes I do. I need to go to college, but why? No college, no job, no future? But, you didn’t go to college. Why can’t you help? Why don’t you like me? The looks I get when I ask a question, why can’t you just accept me? Is it because I can’t accept myself? I can’t, why can’t you? Why does it matter if someone’s gay? It doesn’t, does it? Oh, someone died? That’s great, please leave. No empathy or sympathy. Am I a sociopath? No, yes, I can’t ask anyone. They’ll ask why. I won’t be able to answer, will I? Why can’t I make up my mind? Why can’t I collect my thoughts and tuck them away? It’s too hard, isn’t it? No, it’s easy, they said it was. Blank, blank, thought--stop. Sleep, or not? Should I question myself tonight or should I wonder why I’m not good enough? Why am I so imperfect? Everyone else is, why can’t I? What’s with that smile? Is it pity? Why, though? Why do you call me out in class when I say something? How come you never pick me? Why do you like them? The kids who don’t do their work? They get the most love. Is it because they kiss up to you? If I try, I get the smile, the go sit down, the be quiet and do your work. But, I already finished, find something else to work on. I don’t have anything else, okay? Why are they so loud in class? Don’t they understand I can’t concentrate? Sensory overload. But, why? Headache, stomach churning, call parents, no answer. That look. Why? Everyone loves her, but why? She’s a brat, isn’t she? But, everyone likes her. She’s got him. Why can’t I be like her? Able to perform in front of others? Why is it so hard? Why do I cry so much? Yelling, singing alone, panic attacks, why doesn’t anyone understand? You’re weak, I’ve noticed. Social anxiety, anxiety attacks, make them disappear. Go away, I don’t need you. Burdened but, not? Who else has this problem? I’ve only met one other person and they might have been lying? Who can I trust? She lied to me, I’m so gullible. Easy to trick, easy to treat. I’m a simple person, seemingly, right? Nose buried in a book, fingers clicking the keyboard. What if no one reads this? What will happen then? Am I a bad writer? Can I really publish a book? No, yes, everyone says I can. I can’t, can I? Rethink, rework, re. Do re mei, mei re do. Sorry, excuse me, please. Why do I always say them? Am I strange for my manners? Why am I even questioning it?  Does it matter? Why do I have so many spots? How come my skin is so oily? Why can’t I have clear skin? Why are my arms so fat? What are those little bumps covering them? Where did they come from? How come my fingers are so fat? Why can’t I make myself do anything? I want to go for a walk, but not alone? Why can’t I go alone? Why do I need someone to depend on? Why can’t I find someone I can trust and depend on? Why did she tell him that I wanted to know? Why couldn’t she just ask what I said? How come she had to say I wanted to know? Why did he act so disgusted? Am I that bad? Is that why no one can love me? I don’t understand. Why is it so hard? Why can’t I understand? Why won’t anyone give me a chance? Why?”

                                       “I’m fine.”

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback