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Part 1: Misunderstood

Hunched into a ball and bawling silently, I was afraid. I was afraid of anyone finding out. My family doesn’t understand, and they never will. I get raged on by the wrath of my guardians and teased by my siblings, but they think of it all to be a joke. I don’t think it’s a joke when I’m told that my face isn’t as pure as my older sisters’, or my hair isn’t as alluring as everyone else’s. It’s not funny to feel put down and less than others, but I’ve lived with it my whole life.
Every day I walk through the halls of school and people think I’m just so perfect and that I live the life, but that’s not the case. I’m truly mistaken to be fine and well, but I’ll never be that. I feel surrounded by everyone and everything. I’m trapped into being something I’m not, and there’s no escape.
I do the dishes and clean my room along with the remaining rooms in the house, later, my sibling will be rewarded with a night out, or something even better. I physically pay for the praising of others. Under appreciation is something I’ve suffered with my whole life. My sister’s A, B, and C honour roll seems to be much better than my 98 or above honouring to my parents.
“Open the door now!” my mom shouts. I try to cover it so that she can’t get in and see my red, blotchy face, but It just wasn’t enough. “Are you crying? What an embarrassment. You need to suck it up and live with it!” she slams the door back in my face leaving me all alone. For a few moments, I felt as if I was idle. My body moved none and all I could do was think. I felt better than I ever had before. I was relaxed and could finally get a breath and survive what felt like a “suffocation”.

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