• “Jesus don't love me
    No-one ever carried my load...”
    --The Kings Of Leon,
    “Cold Desert”



    Do you remember elementary school?

    Do you remember the forth grade?

    Do you remember the smart girl, the one you always picked on? You do remember her; she stuck out too much for you to forget. She never had any friends to speak of, or maybe they were all imaginary. You and your hooligans could never tell the difference, or maybe you just never cared to investigate. And so you kept on tormenting her. And all through fifth grade, you ripped into her about every miniscule detail of her being, from her hair to her clothes to her grades to her reading habits to anything else you could find.

    Where did she go after elementary school? You heard from the boys at the lunch table that she went to some smart kid's school across town. But you stayed in your end of the world, and never saw that girl again.

    And so you started picking on her as she ran through the big middle school hallways. And, oh, how she tried to follow your social norms. She tried so hard to fit in with you! It was all she could do. But you kept on changing the music, kept on changing what you wanted. Eventually, she stopped dancing. Eventually, she just stopped trying.

    But that just wouldn't do. Of course not. And so you kept on pushing, kept on with the tormenting, relentless ridicule. Every single day. Every time you caught sight of that face. And she would come home crying constantly. Once a week, sometimes more.

    But you couldn't be blamed. Oh, no. You were just having fun. No harm in it. Just play, nothing more. You were just a child. You didn't know better. All you wanted was a laugh.

    Every day, she woke up and resented going to school, but put on a facade and did it anyway.

    Because what was she to do? Her mother wasn't the type to understand her situation. Nobody was.

    She went on to high school. From what you understand, that's where she is now, off in a corner of your school district. But there's so much you don't know.

    Did you know she nearly skipped a year? Not quite, but she barely associated with anyone her own age. She barely associated with anyone.

    Did you know she had a boyfriend? He paid her attention to force his tongue down her throat, then left her in the dust once he was out of that four year prison.

    Did you know she's overwhelmed. Incredibly so. She hates her schedule. Eight hours of torture.

    Did you know she's got a fanclub? A big one, too. She hates it. They don't know her for anything more than how she dresses and how well she does on history tests.

    I.
    AM.
    THIS.
    GIRL.

    And you owe me an apology.