AN OUTCAST

AN OUTCAST







She was always on the telephone or her laptop whenever I wanted to talk. She was a blogger, a Media personality and also a very popular model.


He's never away from the large mahogany desk leaning against a corner of his wide office-room wall. Studying, rearranging and giving court dates to the files always scattered around; on his laptop, the tiled floors or his bed.


Sometimes, I patiently sit by his feet, waiting. Waiting for him to finish whatever he does so I could show the pieces I made that week; stories I wrote, songs I composed, my art designs and beautiful paper crafts. 


It becomes a waste of time as he is always ignorant of my presence. Can't forget how I got so desperate, I had broken a cup at the entrance and the only thing he did was pause a moment, adjust his glasses then return his head into the heaps of paper on the desk.


I could say you both never loved or cared about me. Mr. Harry, my Math teacher, had touched me in some parts my Biology teacher labeled PRIVATE. HE HAD TOUCHED AND RAPED ME COUNTLESS TIMES!! 


Harriet. Yes . . . That Harriet. The one you both called 'second daughter' (like you were ever good to the first), Mom. Our neighbour's grown daughter sexually harasses me too; she kisses and fondle my growing breasts. SHE JUMPS IN ON ME WHENEVER I TAKE MY BATH!


Thing is, I did my best to 'Speak up', but nobody ever listened. Not even the teachers.


I turned 16 yesterday but neither of you remembered. Or maybe it had been brushed off like other important dates in my life. No wishes, no gifts—Miss Abby, the nanny, once spoke of how you left me at late Grandma's place until I clocked six immediately after I was born.


I became used to everything thereon. You both made sure I never had friends in school because 'I do not want my baby girl corrupted'. Not having any made me stupid. Stupid and dumb.


Been battling depression from grade 3, even. I stood out too much—little Alicia-the-weirdo with strange and empty eyes, long height, red nose—made it easy to get picked on, infact. But the only thing y'all care and is concerned about are the Straight A's I must bring at the end of every term. 


Oh, and I overheard you and dad last night . . . Plans to send me off to a boarding school in Finland, centred at the middle of nowhere, were in progress!


There would be no surprise if this note is disregarded.


BUT WHY WAS I BORN?? I WAS AN ONLY CHILD YET I WAS TREATED LIKE AN OUTCAST. A SLAVE. A CAPTIVE!! 


It's fine now. I won't have to worry about my future being shrouded with sadness, self-hate, depression and helplessness. Wherever I end up after, I do not bother. But there's this tingling I feel in my heart. Is it joy? Excitement? I do find it strange because I have never felt such emotion as this.  



My body would be all frost in your $35,000 Refrigerator before you see this. 


P.S: I DON'T FANCY A 'PROPER BURIAL'!



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