Scars

They say the scars you cannot see are the hardest to heal.

I didn't believe that was true, honestly. Mental scars were a pain in the ass, sure, but were they really that bad? No.

Until now.

I peel a Post - It note off my locker door. 'GET OUT OF OUR SCHOOL, FREAK' is written on it. I try to keep a straight face, but I can feel tears in my eyes.

It's never been that bad. Bullying... it was never this bad. I was never so sensitive. Yet now, even with my calm face, I feel my heart start to ache.

I hate them. I hate all of them, the ones who make me feel like this. Who make me feel like I'm worthless or that there's something wrong with me, or I would be better of away or dead.

The comments they make in the hallway,

The sneers they make when they look at me,

it all hurts so damn much.

The way they talk about me, how they complain to the teacher about me, how they say I'm scaring them with the hideous red patches on one side of my face.

But we both know on the inside they're the ones scaring me. They wouldn't admit, not in a million years, but be both know it.

I can remember every single thing they have said, every single face they have made, every single scrawled message on a Post - It note which makes pain explode in my chest.

They say the scars you cannot see are the hardest to heal.

And I think that's true.