29

summer
1988
I saw life as something fascinating and yet horribly boring in the same aspect. I wandered along dreaming of a better place than the one that I inhabited. I saw the people who surrounded me as idiots for the most part. You see, they could not see past their small town noses. At the age of 14, I knew more than a girl of my age was supposed to know about life. I watched scenes of death with a dreamy sense of wonder. When most would cringe I would smile and tilt my head.I saw things in ways that other found sickening. The first time in my life, I realized the magnitude of how different I really was. But just because my realization had become into becoming, didn't mean that life was easier on me. IN fact, it was harder, much harder than before when I was just a victum.

1988
The fall school year.
I liked the skinny girl because she was interesting to me. I found her to hold more knowledge than the rest of them. She sat quietly in class reading some other book underneathe her textbook as the teacher droned on and on about something that neither of us cared about.
 I never like Chemistry that much and the teacher was odd. At times when class was slow he would whip out his guitar and play some classic rock song or something even further back. He would smile and chuckle then slip his hand into the band of his pants and lean back in his chair. Our class was comprised of mostly girls and he loved that aspect. Every day he loved to rub down each of our backs and smile into our faces. His hand often lingered too long and dropped in just the right angle to brush our asses. He was a work of art, it seemed-yet a twisted perverted on at that.
After class me and Kath, the skinny girl would walk and talk about how ignorant most people were around us. They would stare at us and whisper behind upraised open palms. They looked at us with disgust which made us hate them more. NO longer were we scared of them, but we hated them. We waited for opportunities to hurt them, embarass them and belittle them the way they had done to us. We were two, which was much better than one in the battle of the down-trodden.

1988
I fought harder and harder to keep death away from me. I wanted to be normal. I was appalled at how evil a part of me had become. My hurt was hardening into some huge calloused thing inside. I wanted to be something that did not fantasize about death and decay. Every time I would go to sleep I would remember the words this girl Wendy said at school one day.
"Why don't you like flowers and things like that. I mean why do you like dark and demonic things, Sherrie?"
She would always say these things and ask these questions with a sneer. I was a disease that she just could not cure it seemed.
So every night I heard her words and wondered if I could like those things. I wondered if it was too hard to think about the blue sky and the beautiful flowers that grew violent and pink in fields of green. I wondered how easy it was to dream of picnics and ladies with smiling faces. I fell into sleep thinking about ladies with smiling faces leaning over cribs smiling. Their eyes were glassed over. Their deep dark eyes stared in wonder....and horror.