Letter 2

Ive attempted suicide several times. More importantly- I wanted the morning from 7 to a half past free, so I slept in my school uniform. I kept a butter knife stuffed into the plush of one of my teddy's, and would use that to nervously drag across my skin. Never enough to even cause a hairline wound. I was so disappointed in myself. I spent the mornings on the way to school reading fan fiction in the backseat, which I suppose is to thank for my adoration of writing now. I had a hairbrush that I would rake through the front strands and leave the back a matted nest for months. I would throw water on the back to tame the breakage, and a girl once asked me "Why are you wet?" with such horror and id insist I wasn't, despite the dark spots on my shoulders and back from where my hair laid and the tiles of the bathroom splattered with water.

I didn't have a good elementary experience. I was mute till fourth grade, whispering my answers to questions to the TA assigned to me for class questions or only speaking to my family. I was bullied mercilessly for being too big, or too slow, or too dumb. Roll around 6th grade, and I decided to use a third party texting app to target three of my bullies.I remember the day I decided, I was laying on my left side on my iPod and it clicked- make a fake instagram to torment my classmates. I used the alias 'A' since Pretty Little Liars was the hype of fifth grade, and I thought it worked. I remember standing outside, just on the edge of the group of popular kids or the soccer kids to hear them chatting about the show. Something clicked. Something different, wrong. I never said much mean, either that I was watching or on special occasion 'Unhappy birthday' which struck painfully for a young girl. I wrote a swear word on the whiteboard in permanent ink since I got to school early.

They had a cop come in, and ask the hypothetical of what if they took all our phones and knew who did it? But my iPod was at home. I smirked to myself, I remember, and some poor girl lower on the wrung than me freezed up and everyone hooked their talons into her.

It was revealed to be me. The teacher tried to have me expelled. The priest said we were Catholic and I was just a child who deserved a second chance. Not a great man, but kind in his regard to me that day. I offered up my sexuality as leverage, or apology.

I told my mother it was the evil bunny, because I was on my iPod one day and I saw this image of a fluffy white bunny looking in the mirror and seeing a distorted mirror image.

My family was starting to fall apart, too. Mental health issues I won't divulge and divorce. The usual pain of family. So I tried the butter knife. It didn't work. I found cracking the shell of my brothers shaving razor worked, and used that. Never do that, please. It has scarred me for life, no matter the tattoos or makeup or ointments. You may think you'll like it, be happy for it, not live long enough to see it- but you will live long enough, and you will hate it. A stark reminder of these kinds of cruel times.

And at some point, I downloaded Skout. I was looking for friends- though I did meet one who has been a friend for half my life, I also was abused and assaulted multiple times until horrifying things occurred. I was made to cut myself, send inappropriate things, do horrible things to myself a CHILD should not have to do. But I was threatened. I was scared.

And it changed my mind forever.