Saturday, October 18, 2008

Impatience.

My hands are cold. oh so cold...

its freezing its freezing...

I want to leave this hell...its freezing...

my hands are so cold...

Why...why...
The words I'm yearning to hear are echoing in my mind...

Those words of hate, those words of hate are hurting my ears..

Stop saying them stop it please...
forgive me...hate me...love me...
they hurt they hurt please stop.

they echo...and scream..

this life of mine is no longer worth living...

but worth the death..

Monday, October 13, 2008

My Life

Well, my full name is Alexandra Celeste Erazo, but I prefer Alex. And this...is my life put into words.

I was born in Metropolitan Hospital in New York City, February 25, 1994. It was 0 degrees outside, freezing, as my mother told me. I remember being very quiet when I was younger. I also remember being very...different. I went to catholic school all of elementary. First school was for pre-k 1 and 2. Second I went to was just kindergarden. Then I went to St. Ann. That school I will never forget. When I got there the principal held me back in kindergarden even though i was supposed to be in 1st grade already. Her excuse was because of my birthday. She basically wanted to be a bitch with us. <.<

When I was there, I was happy until first grade. People made fun of me and this bitch named Kelly liked to pick on me alot. One day while we were coloring something, she was arguing with me about how her father was better than mine. So i went along with it, I wasn't gonna let her get away with saying my father was nothing compared to hers. And this was when I was 5 XD. Then she decided to go to the teacher and say something completely different from what was even happening. She went to the teacher and said that i called her "a black cobra".

I never even called her that, I don't go that far. Maybe she just wanted me in trouble but she went to the point that it became racist when it wasn't. I saw her with the teacher, Ms. Loving. Ms. Loving my ass. Ms. Loving called me over and asked why did I call Kelly a "black cobra". I frowned shocked and angry saying I never called her that. Ms. Loving said "Yes you did now apologize!". I frowned mumbling no. She kept saying "apologize to Kelly" so in the end i turned to Kelly and apologized in a nasty way just to let her know how much that got me upset.

I was sent back to my seat crying. Kelly didn't care, she just got what she wanted. Me getting in trouble and tears coming out my eyes. I told my parents, they sent a letter to the teacher. My teacher gave a deep apology and spoke to Kelly and her mom. Kelly didn't do anything like that again, but she still picked on me throughout the years.

There was this boy named Mark in my class. We good friends, and also not such good friends. I had a really big crush on him that started in first grade. He liked me too, but showed it in different ways. Most of the time he would be nice, but other times he'd be like the other kids and make fun of me or just try to get me annoyed. There was even this one time he held my hand in Church....In second grade I liked my teacher, Ms Lynn. She was nice.

Before I knew it third grade came...and around the middle of the year my aunt passed away. I loved my aunt, especially because whenever my mom tried to hit me she would warn her to stop. And my mom stopped...in front of her at least. I became depressed. Crying almost everyday. Barely talking. Singing sad songs in honor of her. Going to a physciatrist, talking about my dreams with her, trying to get better, etc. It was hard...But eventually I got better...

I still miss her...a lot.

All the years at that school were hell. Kids making fun of me everyday made me look like a crybaby which just made them make fun of me even more. I'm very sensitive so...any little thing made me cry. And then there was also my mother. Somehow exactly like them and also much worse. She hit me a lot, cursed me out, called me names, complained about me, her words sounded like she never wanted me born. And because of all that...I began hating her. In 5th and 6th grade teachers failed me on purpose, and I had such little confidence in myself.

Finally for 7th grade I was taken out of that horrible school and put into St. Francis. I was happy there at first. But towards the end of school i had sprained my ankle on a field trip, and everyone thought i was faking it. I had a talent show to sing in, and I was worried I was going to lose my "friends". The school was closing after that year so in the end I tried not to worry about the friends that had turned against me. I decided to have confidence that I would be happy at my next school, the same one I went to kindergarden to. It was a better school now so I was told it was going to be ok. My 7th grade teacher, the 8th grade teacher, and one of the younger children's teachers came from St. Francis to the same school I was going to start in again.

I was excited about it but nervous if I would make friends. It started out as a good year. But things got bad as the year passed. I had gotten lower grades, the ones that lowered; lowered by two points only. I was happy but also knew i needed to get higher and better, even if that meant only one or two As and the rest Bs. I only had Bs now. When I showed my report card to my parents, they were upset. Other people would say great you got Bs, very good. But my mom and dad were angry. They expected As and said I "fucked up" my future. That night I cut myself for the first time...

My mother especially got upset. The next morning when I came down for breakfast, I could tell something bad was coming. And it did...

She began yelling and cursing about how bad I've done in school and how I fucked up my future. She was banging on the table and then she lost her temper completely and grabbed my hair from the top of my head tightly swinging my head around. After letting go she slapped my face twice. I was shaking and crying. I couldn't eat. So I left the house in tears. When I got to school no one really noticed me at first, it was when we got into the classroom that I broke down crying more. Everyone surrounded me asking whats wrong. I didn't speak, I just cried and wrote it down. One of my best friends, Elyse, watched me with sad eyes after reading what i wrote. It was sloppy, I was still shaky.

I calmed down a little and before I got lunch I spoke to my teacher about what happened. She told me all I have to do is do better because I did go down a little but I can still do well. I even told her about me cutting myself and had to show her the cuts. I was ashamed and scared. In the afternoon I got home and did my work. Later on at night my father called me downstairs when he got home. He asked why did I cut myself screaming at me. I was shocked...

The school had called my mother to the school to talk about it and she lied to them. They said they would send someone to the house to investigate but never did. My father had gone to the school at his own will because my mother wouldn't tell him where she was going.

He came home angry, and I just cried again as he told me that I could be taken out of this home because of the investigation. I had become depressed. There was silence between me and my mother for a few days. Then she came to me at the kitchen table while I did my homework with her eyes watering. She took my hand and pointed to the wristband that I used to cover my cuts.

"This....this I don't want you to ever do again. Please promise me to never do this again. I'm so sorry, but please don't do it again...Please..." She begged, crying as she held my hand. I looked at her and at the table silent. She asked "Will you promise me?.." After a while I nodded yes and she kissed my forehead saying she was sorry and for me not to do it again.

I was still afraid...

I graduated, accepted to the highschool of my dreams, and happy but sad at the fact I would no longer see most of my classmates.

My mother went back to her usual, mentally/physically abusive arguing self. She's been that way since I was 3...but what can I do. I even spoke to her on graduation day and told her she hurt me whenever she became her angry self. The things she said and did hurt me. She apologized and promised to change.

After a week that promise was broken...

The summer was hell as well. I felt I was getting insonmia because I wouldnt get off the computer until 4, 5, 6, and the latest, 11:30 am. I also felt a sadness that wouldn't leave. I didn't know why. I was having problems controling my anger, worse than before. I got so angry at a point when my father warned of putting a password on the computer again, I threw my vocabulary index cards to the floor and yelled "I fucking hate mom", because I believed he always followed her way.

It didn't make things better.

I finally started highschool and notice when I'm at school I'm happy, but soon as I step into what I call "home", I'm down. But I've survived haven't I?...

I'm trying my best to do good in school and try not to get stressed out, but become even happier.

And perhaps the child my parents always wanted...if ever possible....

and well, thats it.

To believe in something inspires you, to believe in yourself inspires others.