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The Monster Inside Me
Mainstream
Let's jump back in time to the sixth grade. I can sum up this year quite easily.
School was hell. Home was hell.
Face it, I was confused. I didn't know who I was, or who I was going to become. I wanted to fit in, badly. I wanted friends, badly.
Kids in school, especially girls were not the nicest. I developed at a fairly young age. Gabbie and I were born about a month and a half pre-mature, the doctors didn't know what happened, but we grew and developed at a fast rate after that despite our stunt in growth while still in the womb. By the third grade I had acne, and began wearing training bras. By the end of fourth grade, I already got my first period. Kids never said much about my acne in elementary school, but I was still very insecure about it figuring literally, Gabbie and I were the only kids in the whole school that had acne. Because of my insecurities then, I kept to myself. I never talked to anyone. And if I did, my face would turn beat red. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't communicate. It was hard.
In the sixth grade, that's when kids started commenting on it. I remember bluntly this girl named Kelly, she'd always make fun of me for the fact I had acne. It was mortifying. I was embarrassed, and the worst part is that I couldn't even control it. That's one of the reasons why acne sucks so much.
Home, wasn't any better. At the end of sixth grade, beginning of seventh grade my father moved out. I don't know what happened but my mom became even more angry and what I describe it as more hostile then she was before. She never bothered much of Michelle or Joey, my older siblings, but she constantly yelled at Gabbie and I for basically no reason at all. She was just always angry. At this time I didn't understand why. I thought she had something against the two of us. I took it personally.
I wanted to hide at this point. I didn't want people to look at me. I hated eye contact. I wanted to just plainly and simply disappear. I even began to not even want to have contact with people in general anymore.
I started to dress pretty dark. I wore nothing but band t-shirts, jeans and black converse. And I won't lie, I liked the style. Kids in school said I was "emo". And by the way, I hate that term. Just use 'goth'. Emo means emotional. Sorry, it's a pet peeve. This was my version of being invisible. Colors were not my thing.
Gabbie dressed the same way. Gabbie and I also got into this band called My Chemical Romance. One of our first ever bands we got into other than that hip-hop, dance, "today's music" crap. Everyone knew us as those 'My Chem freaks'. Everyone knew we were obsessed. That was my rep in the sixth grade.
Seventh grade, we both were the same except our hair grew longer, and we cut our bangs so now we had side bangs. We didn't use hair stuff like mousse, gel, or hairspray yet, so just imagine how terrible and frizzy my hair was. And remember, my mother's hair is really curly, and I had her hair. I didn't look so hot in seventh grade, well middle school in general.
Seventh grade got only a tad better. The girls still commented on my acne and the way I dressed, it still bothered me but I tried to pretend I didn't hear them, which was one of the hardest things to do. The boys started saying shit, too. A few guys said I looked like a guy due to the way I dressed. And they weren't the only ones that thought that. My mother even asked me one day, 'When are you going to stop dressing like a boy?' Again, mortifying.
The side of me that wants to impress people all of the time came out around this time. In the end of March, beginning of April I started dressing more like a girl I guess you could say. I wore cardigans, nice skinny jeans (this was when skinny jeans just started getting into style) and flats. I didn't feel like myself, but I did get compliments for looking "pretty". So I kept with it. And I felt it was ironic because at the end of April I started gaining friends; as you read in the last chapter. I put two and two together and thought because I'm dressing more girly, that's why I gained friends.
They year I wanted to find who I was, just turned into being molded into someone I didn't really want to be. All I cared about was fitting in. I hated bullies. I hated what my mother said to me. And I hated that I was a misfit. Why couldn't I have been one of those pretty, thin girls? Why did they get to be so lucky?
Now can you guess how eighth grade went?
Ha.. eighth grade.
School was hell. Home was hell.
Face it, I was confused. I didn't know who I was, or who I was going to become. I wanted to fit in, badly. I wanted friends, badly.
Kids in school, especially girls were not the nicest. I developed at a fairly young age. Gabbie and I were born about a month and a half pre-mature, the doctors didn't know what happened, but we grew and developed at a fast rate after that despite our stunt in growth while still in the womb. By the third grade I had acne, and began wearing training bras. By the end of fourth grade, I already got my first period. Kids never said much about my acne in elementary school, but I was still very insecure about it figuring literally, Gabbie and I were the only kids in the whole school that had acne. Because of my insecurities then, I kept to myself. I never talked to anyone. And if I did, my face would turn beat red. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't communicate. It was hard.
In the sixth grade, that's when kids started commenting on it. I remember bluntly this girl named Kelly, she'd always make fun of me for the fact I had acne. It was mortifying. I was embarrassed, and the worst part is that I couldn't even control it. That's one of the reasons why acne sucks so much.
Home, wasn't any better. At the end of sixth grade, beginning of seventh grade my father moved out. I don't know what happened but my mom became even more angry and what I describe it as more hostile then she was before. She never bothered much of Michelle or Joey, my older siblings, but she constantly yelled at Gabbie and I for basically no reason at all. She was just always angry. At this time I didn't understand why. I thought she had something against the two of us. I took it personally.
I wanted to hide at this point. I didn't want people to look at me. I hated eye contact. I wanted to just plainly and simply disappear. I even began to not even want to have contact with people in general anymore.
I started to dress pretty dark. I wore nothing but band t-shirts, jeans and black converse. And I won't lie, I liked the style. Kids in school said I was "emo". And by the way, I hate that term. Just use 'goth'. Emo means emotional. Sorry, it's a pet peeve. This was my version of being invisible. Colors were not my thing.
Gabbie dressed the same way. Gabbie and I also got into this band called My Chemical Romance. One of our first ever bands we got into other than that hip-hop, dance, "today's music" crap. Everyone knew us as those 'My Chem freaks'. Everyone knew we were obsessed. That was my rep in the sixth grade.
Seventh grade, we both were the same except our hair grew longer, and we cut our bangs so now we had side bangs. We didn't use hair stuff like mousse, gel, or hairspray yet, so just imagine how terrible and frizzy my hair was. And remember, my mother's hair is really curly, and I had her hair. I didn't look so hot in seventh grade, well middle school in general.
Seventh grade got only a tad better. The girls still commented on my acne and the way I dressed, it still bothered me but I tried to pretend I didn't hear them, which was one of the hardest things to do. The boys started saying shit, too. A few guys said I looked like a guy due to the way I dressed. And they weren't the only ones that thought that. My mother even asked me one day, 'When are you going to stop dressing like a boy?' Again, mortifying.
The side of me that wants to impress people all of the time came out around this time. In the end of March, beginning of April I started dressing more like a girl I guess you could say. I wore cardigans, nice skinny jeans (this was when skinny jeans just started getting into style) and flats. I didn't feel like myself, but I did get compliments for looking "pretty". So I kept with it. And I felt it was ironic because at the end of April I started gaining friends; as you read in the last chapter. I put two and two together and thought because I'm dressing more girly, that's why I gained friends.
They year I wanted to find who I was, just turned into being molded into someone I didn't really want to be. All I cared about was fitting in. I hated bullies. I hated what my mother said to me. And I hated that I was a misfit. Why couldn't I have been one of those pretty, thin girls? Why did they get to be so lucky?
Now can you guess how eighth grade went?
Ha.. eighth grade.