Talk:Kick/@comment-5621386-20130220035317

I'm not the girl who's crowded by people in the halls, all who just want a glimpse of her, and if they're lucky, a word. I'm not known to have that many friends, and the few that I have don't have that many either. I like to stay to myself.

I love the friends I have now. A lot of people do have many friends, while I have about six close ones, and some others. A lot of people would ask me why I have a few. I clearly have the potential to make more. If I let myself shine, I could have all the friends I wanted. And the haters coud just go die in a hole. But I reply saying that my friends don't need to prove their loyalty. I just know it. If I had a bunch of scattered friends, would they support me with each step? Surely there would be a backstabber. More than one, really.

If a person were to ask me what's my best quality, I would tell them that I was strong. They would probably scoff and laugh in response. They would say that I can barely throw a football. How could I be strong? I would reply by saying that I haven't given in. I've gone through many problems. Many fights. Many battles. Many wars. Many of which I never even meant to start. Somehow, a blade will always find its way in front of me. It will scream at me to let go of the pain. That one slice wouldn't hurt. But I would resist. I wouldn't do it. I could see the pills sitting there. It would be a few seconds, then nothing-ness. I'm only twelve, but many times, there has been a temptation. But I always fought it.

Many children would go to bed, nervous about a test they have tomorrow. I couldn't care less about grades. I worried about my slowly dying aunts (yes, two of them are dying as of now). I would worry about my mother, who could go to the emergency room at any time due to a slipped disk. I worried about my cousin, who's like my sister, and the abuse she had to put up with. Occasionally, when she visited, I would see bruises forming, bruises healing, and new ones taking the place of old ones. Now, I worry about whether the court will rule her to live with her mother, who she fears, due to each slap and punch and hit. I worry about my other cousin, my ex-role model, and how she's doing in rehab. Has she let go of her drugs yet? I worry about the insults I have to face from my parents. They wanted perfection. I let them down.

There was always the option of leaving. I denied it. I would be in tears. I would be curled up on the bathroom floor. I would kick and scream at everyone, tell them through sobs to leave me be. But I never gave in.

I'm smart, I'm funny, I'm kind. I get all A's and know just what to say, I'm clever and witty, hilariously good at acting and imitations, I'm loyal and I'll try to save even a stranger. I'm jealous easily, I'm awkward around people, I'm a worrywart. I'm not athletic at all, I'd rather wear sweats than skinny jeans any day, I can't attract a guy to save my life. I like having my own special things, with my name on the label. But I don't mind sharing those things at all.

But most of all, I'm strong.