Suffering in Silence

Alone again.

I sometimes wonder why I even bother. No matter how nice I am, they still push me away.

All I’ve ever wanted was to be loved and accepted. I know I’m different, and that many others hate me for that difference, but it isn’t my fault. I was born this way. I remember how the Sister explained it to me when I was little.

My father was a human, but my mother was a nymph. She had explained that such a union wasn’t normally possible, but every now and then a nymph would become pregnant after a dalliance with a human man; the end result was always the same. The man would never even know, and the nymph would die during childbirth. Most of the children born this way, didn’t survive.

I was special.

I didn’t feel special, just alone.

The other children at the Home teased me about my body. I was born fully endowed, with the appearance and figure of a nymph. As I grew, I went from a little girl trapped in a miniature woman’s body, to a young girl, trapped in a midget-sized body, and now at last I had grown into the size of a normal young woman, even though I was only fourteen.

I often wish that I had been born with vocal chords. Since all I can do is grunt, or write out what I want to say, I know that the other kids will continue to tease me.

I will probably be alone forever.

(c) 2016 - dustygrein