How the adult's overlooking this young woman, who counted on her, to give her the attention she'd needed, had left the adolescent in pain, and the pain had, changed her, completely…translated…
"Don't know why, they started, singling me, out. I'd originally wanted to just, weather through it, but they'd gone, overboard, and I can only call the disciplinary official at school to help me with this, problem, and, the end results, exactly, the, same!" you'd left a short message for me, in the cool and comfortable, autumn, breeze, it'd, hung, unsteadily like that leaf, barely, attached to the, branches.
I'd entered into your twelfth, your tiny face, started, blooming, in the class, you'd enjoyed interacting with me outside of class, with that curious, distance, that still kept the, courteousness, you'd discussed Su's perspectives of life, the choices in life. You always, wore a white short coat outside of your, uniform, and that sort of white, is completely, missing from students your, age, after all, the stains can easily, dirty that, pure, whiteness, and, it would, lose its, originally, shiny, looks. And yet, you'd always, worn this, shiny, white short coat, sitting in the classrooms, becoming, unique of the, class.
In the writing assignments you'd turned in, I'd read the fears, and pains that had been, covered up, underneath, that white coat of, your: your father's long-term physical abuse toward your mother, you'd gone from fearing, hiding behind the doors, watching through the cracks, to become, brave, and stepped in front of your father, to prevent him from, physically, assaulting your, mother, taking in the originally physically hard impact that was originally, to befall on your, mother, and, coped with how your father is, with his, new lover………
The domestic violence you grew up in made you distrustful toward people, and, every interaction with your peers, you'd, walked on, eggshells, your, mental maturity caused you to not allow yourself to be intimately related to your, peers, and yet, you'd, known, to assimilate yourself into the group, so your mother won't need to, worry about, you, and so, you'd, worked hard, to deindividualize your self, and that white that sometimes, shines through, would, cause you to, stumble in your, interpersonal, relations.
That summer of your fifteenth, you'd selected to set foot outside, and away from your own father, and your classmates, moved away and out of the city you lived in, went by yourself, to your mother's hometown, and started studying in a local high school there, and, the sporadic messages you'd sent to me, with the lightness of the white short coat that came, "the older female schoolmates really looked out for me, so good to be, someone who's, younger", "the academic is getting more and more difficult, but I find literature, very easy to understand and to, master."
the loneliness of the teenage years...photo from online
A year later, the messages reduced, until a few days before the birthday of your alma mater, you'd left a message of you, being, singled out to me. On the day, of the celebration of the school's, birthday, you still had on the short white coat, that palm-sized face of yours, with the shy teenage girl's, smile, I had something to busy over, and I'd only, muttered a, "hi" to you, then, we'd missed, one another, in the afternoon, in the noisy campus grounds, I'd, caught a glimpse of that, familiar white, with a glass of drink in hand, and that feel of intoxication, with the shoulders, spreading outward, swinging, that coat that wasn't, buttoned, up was propped by the wind, with your, thin frame, your shadow became, enormous under the autumn, sun, and, your means of, stay away from me, shocked me.
And, to this very day, I couldn't, share a good and complete, conversation with, you, and, after the celebrations were over, I'd, stopped, receiving any messages from you. The autumn wind had, once again, grazed the tops of the tree branches, are you still, in that white coat, covering your own, wounds? Or, had you, taken that coat that falsely showed your, braveness, and given yourself, a way, to, embrace the world, in your, youthfulness?
This is someone who'd, slipped through the, cracks, because she'd not gotten the help she'd longed to receive from the adult, that she was, counting on to give her a pull up, and, nobody knows, what's happened to this, adolescent who's completely, used to, putting that, mask on, a way she has, of, surviving through, this, world…
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