Look Into My Eyes | Teen Ink

Look Into My Eyes

August 17, 2012
By AWriterOfWords DIAMOND, Hamburg, New Jersey
AWriterOfWords DIAMOND, Hamburg, New Jersey
59 articles 13 photos 9 comments

Why did they always say it’s fun and easy to be a kid? I think it’s the exact opposite-difficult. Adults don’t get how kids feel, especially kids just like me. Adults judge and won’t budge. They form an opinion on you before they get to know you and won’t budge on it. That’s how it is for me. I’m fourteen, just a kid in some people’s eyes, but I am something more. Underneath my baggy jeans, you could never guess what you would see.

When I was in fourth grade, my parents died in a car crash as they went out to go buy me a birthday present. My birthday was the next day, also their funeral. It’s all my fault. I was so spoiled. Demanding I get the IPod Touch for my birthday besides the presents they already bought me. If only I could have seen. Back then, I was blind. Well not actually blind-blind, but blind in my own way. My way of not seeing the world around me and just thinking of me. In fourth grade I went from being the popular girl to that girl who lost her parents.
The next traumatic event happened in sixth grade, two years later. Throughout everything and from kindergarten I had one friend. She was opposite of me, which made me so interested in her. She had long wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and was tall. Her name was-is- Claudia, but you say it like cloud-e-a. I had brown frizzy hair, green eyes, and was short. My name is Jane, plain old Jane. She always said I was so unique but I never believed her. Anyway, that year she changed. That change left me out. She decided to stab me in my back and follow our enemies who are now my enemies and she is one too. How could she? I have no idea. I sat alone at lunch, instead of with my popular crew. I had never done anything wrong, I was always accepting at least I thought so.
Now I am in eighth grade. I have learned so much since that fourth grade day when my parents died. I learned not to trust people, no matter what. Blood, swears, friendships don’t matter. Everyone will leave you eventually and laugh behind your back. So to beat them all, just recede. That’s how I spent my eighth grade year. I just sat in the back of the classrooms, half paying attention, ignoring the snickers from my classmates as they pointed at me. But all that pain came crashing down. My eyes opened wide and I could see, all that pain that was boiling inside of me. With no one to turn to, I made a new friend. Someone-something- that could never leave me. Her name was Scissors. How easily she worked with the guide of my fingers. Making the crosses, making the marks. At first that’s all it was-marks. But later on, as I became more aware of everything my friend drew blood. The blood felt….good. Like I deserved it, for everything that I did. The girl who everyone made fun of and “punished” began to punish herself. I knew I no longer fitted in, but why care?
How did I hide it? Instead of wearing my once flower and heart shirts I began to change. Just like how Claudia changed on me. I began to wear black, blues, and gray. The clothes that blended me in with my surroundings, barely even seen. I covered what Scissors did by wearing long sleeves and jeans. Even in the summer I did not dare to shed my clothes and reveal the real me. All I needed was someone to look into my eyes. That one person to really look and see that something was bothering me. One look could make the difference, but that look never came for me.
Between dealing with school which once was so important was now nothing. Failing did not make me care, getting As did not faze me. I receded even more but no one bothered to see that I was becoming a shadow of the once me. I know we all change, I know we all grow. But I am bound by these scars, holding me down, drowning me in these heavy clothes. Hiding what I am, pretending I am normal.
But in the end will someone see? The pain, the anger, the sadness that flickers in my gaze. My emerald green eyes that show more than I feel; the eyes that are a portal to one’s soul. My eyes that might give me away, but only if someone came and stopped to look. Just one look into my eyes will change who I am and maybe make me who I used to be. But first I need someone to see the real me. All I need is one real look into my eyes, and things will change.

The author's comments:
We learn to hide emotions in our eyes, blocking the world out instead of letting people inside.

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