A Letter To My Six-Year-Old Self

He'll never realize how often she recalls that day.
Or just how much it ment to her. Just a little girl.
She already hated herself, she already knew how to fake a smile.
She was already teaching herself to become invisible.
Children's jokes can cut to the quick.
Little boys who think nothing of torturing little girls who cant even begin to think of how to defend themselves.
They learn to just shut up and take it.
Playgrounds are supposed to be a place of fond memories.
Merry-go-rounds are supposed to make you smile.
But when you realize that every single person in your class is plotting against you, the playground turns into a hurtful memory.
When even your only best friend joins in on the fun.
When the kids your supposed to be around for the next eleven years are the people you dread facing everyday.
And when the people who were running from you only a moment ago, become the people chasing you to comfort you.
And suddenly you're pushing away the one person you'll always care about.
Seven years later, nothing had changed.
Those boys still tortured you at every turn.
And that little girl still tried so hard to pretend everything they did, didnt bother her.
Her parents didnt know. Her teachers didnt care.
Her friends were fake.
She was alone.
And still she remembers that day on the playground when the whole world seemed to turn against her.
Oh, little girl. I know you'll never fully heal from the pain they caused you.
And i know you'll never be able to truely love yourself.
And sweet little girl, no one will ever understand you.
And you'll have to grow up and remember that.
And always think back to the one memory that you havent blocked from your life.