Artemis

Artemis

By: Rio

            I groaned when I got my math quiz back. It had a big fat F on it. God, I have to be pretty damn dumb. I mean, I’m in my junior year of high school, for God’s sake. Math class got over as I went over to my locker. Math was my last class of the day, so I sighed and shut my locker, heading for the busses. God, my stomach hurt. I cut myself on my legs and stomach. I’ve been doing this for about a year now and nobody’s found out until recently. I also make myself throw up. My own brother hates me and he’s a freshman in high school. I know that our parents love me, but a voice inside my head… that voice. That voice is cruel. The voice is harsh. That voice is wrong and I know it. But I listen to it every single time. That’s when my parents forced me into therapy. When they forced me to take medication;

            I have asthma; I’m allergic to peanuts, chocolate, and peaches. I’m also lactose intolerant. I wear glasses and I wear a size 12. I should be happy, right? My parents love me, my family loves me, and my niece and nephew love me. It’s not enough. I want to end my life; I just don’t want to do it yet.

Personal Journal Entry:

            Well, my parents found out about what I’ve been doing they even want me to do rehab. Screw rehab. Screw therapy. Then the therapist suggested I join a group and keep a journal. Hn. I already journal, I told her. She smiled and told me that’s good, but I should keep a separate journal for group. I hate my group therapist. The rapist. Uh, hello?! Then my therapist, Shelly, suggested to my parents that I be put on medication. “Anything to make you get better” was my mom’s reasoning. My gramma just said, “You honestly think it’s going to help? She’s a teenager, you two. Medicating her? She’s going to hate you.” I do love my gramma.

            My parents wanted to transfer me to another school, but I just asked what the point was. I just told them, “Send me away, that way you don’t have to deal or even look at me anymore”. Seriously? I just… I don’t even know what I want anymore. They make all my choices for me. They tell me what I can and can’t do. They took away my free will. They’re forcing food down my throat. They don’t trust me by myself. They took away my pencils and scissors.

            I hate this. I hate being a prisoner. I hate my life. I hate my parents. I hate everything and everybody around me. At this point, I’m just going through the motions. I don’t’ even care what my parents think anymore. They should’ve just sent me away so they wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. I don’t even write in my group journal. It’s stupid, pointless and a waste of one of my notebooks. I mean, seriously? Who actually writes in one of those things.

            I’m nothing but a problem for my parents. I remember the times I was happy. And now? I’m tired of putting the smile on my face—even if it is false. I’m so sick of it. Maybe I’ll just run away. Maybe being here is the problem. Maybe I’ll just die or something. *sighs*

            I don’t know what to do anymore. My self-esteem is nothing and I’m nothing. I’m just filled with emptiness. I’m tired—so tired. I’m 17 years old, not yet an adult, yet, I’m not a child. I’m in that awkward phase of life and if I actually make it, I’ll be like that for a while. I’m not a virgin anymore and I know that I’m beautiful. But that voice… I mentioned that voice earlier.

            Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad—I really do. I just wish he would leave me the hell alone. Mom and Derek do. I understand that he’s concerned, but he should mind his own damn business. I mean, seriously. Who cares if I die? I know I don’t. I don’t have any issues about taking my own life.

            Oh great, here he comes to make sure I’m still alive.

More later,

Artemis

            I closed my journal and shoved it under my pillow right when my dad came in. He just walked right on in—they all do. Nobody ever knocks anymore—they used to before. Before they took everything away from me;

            “Just lock me up in the mental hospital. They take away all your rights there. Just like prison. I’m in prison and you’re the damn warden” I snarled as he sighed.

            I hate this. Let me tell you. You have no idea how much I hate this. I wish everything would go away.

            But tonight, it will all fade to black. Tonight is the night.