The Diary Entries of the Battered Teen

The Diary Entries of the Battered Teen

Diary, is it?

Still don’t know why I’m doing this. If you ask me, this diary process is crap. I’m sure if I think through this long enough, I’d…I’d……I don’t know what I’d do, but I’m sure I’d do something. I think. I’m the irrational, impulsive and violent type. I never used to admit this, but the doctor that said I was all that advised me to embrace it, that doing so takes me a step towards my closure.

I don’t know how embracing it would heal anything, but I should listen to him. Not that I’m the gullible kind, but the last time I didn’t, I got into trouble with Charles at rehearsals.

He shouldn’t have said what he said, but still, I should have remained calm. My temper wasn’t worth loosing over all that shenanigans. I don’t know what came over me. They said I almost killed him. I can’t even remember a thing. I went over to where he was at, that new hospital behind the gym, to see him. Temi Bankole’s. It’s the closest to the church so he was rushed there.

They said something about a surgery procedure…broken limbs…. I wasn’t family, so the information was limited for me. I remember thinking, ‘Dear God, how in heaven’s name did I cause such?’:( I’m choking at the memory.

Shante doesn’t want to speak to me anymore. I was still at the door when her younger sister came back and told me that she said she should say she wasn’t around. Her eyes looked sad. Bibi was only seven. She doesn’t know any better. I just bent and gave her a peck on her forehead. I would miss her perkiness, which I miss already. She had been gloomy lately and I know why. I wouldn’t come around anymore.

This was my eleventh visit after the incident and still this same front I got. My persistence is starting to seem like ‘pest-iness’. I’m even starting to irritate myself. This should be my last visit.

What’s more, I haven’t had a conversation with anybody in 3months. Wait…no…2months and 2weeks… I think it’s 3weeks… What the heck ! Let’s just say almost 3months. And I know why. I’ve tried to start small talks at the car park…The supermarket…fuel station…bank… NO ONE TALKS TO ME. Well, except my in-house doctor. He gets paid hourly to do so.

Others, I see them whisper to themselves but when I talk or ask a question they just stare at me. And then someone gets closer as if waiting in-case I try to hit someone. Why would I? The last one was an accident. Mrs Mary’s rebellious nuisance of a son called me a…it doesn’t even matter anymore.

Why do I blackout when these things happen?

The Diary Entries of the Battered Teen

Now like the whole town had a meeting. Funny chance that is. Something is wrong, or I’m probably just getting delusional. I wish, but I’m not. This is just as real as the cobwebs inside my medium steel jam container. And thats odd…that steel box is airtight; and I thought cobwebs are made from some special kind of spiders? Unless…..OMG! I really should tell mom and dad.

I still haven’t heard from them in 2years. I haven’t been bothered even for a second about it because I still get a regular inflow of cash monthly, don’t ask how. Oh its true, you cant. You’re just paper. Sad. I don’t know why they won’t contact me though but honestly, I really couldn’t care less. They haven’t really been like the best parents, so cut me a few slack if I say I’m more in anticipation of having access to my trust fund which is in about 8month’s time when I turn 18, than their arrival. If they ever do arrive. Especially considering what’s been happening. Maybe they’ve been alerted. Just maybe.

They always say I should stay away from controversial issues, that I would only get worked up and then flare up in anger. I bet they would never have seen this coming. Or would they? Is it possible they’ve known all these while? I wish I could just leave this place, but I have no where else to go. No relatives and no friends.

First it was Lotanna, and now Shante. Lotanna’s attitude was a bit more dramatic. But I expected it from him. What with his church and all. He shouldn’t be seen around me, not anymore. Not ever.

But Shante, she should understand. Maybe i should try harder, to explain. To make her see me at the very least. I did this all for her. I’m not making sense I know, so let me start from the beginning….

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  1. This is my second time of commenting here, and i just want to say that you are a really good writer. I am proud of you girl! Well done 🙂

      1. You call this ‘amazing’ piece a ‘pathetic and woeful’ attempt at fiction? Really? Come on!
        This piece is awesome. I like the flow, especially. It shouldn’t be your only attempt at fiction, please.

        1. Talks like this make people feel on top of the world even just for a moment. Now I’m blushing. Go jor. Lol. You’re my shugar 😘❤️

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  3. What I love most– or better put, the things I love most (because they are a bit a-plenty, even though I can only think of two now) are: the ease with which you write rather poignant issues, and the flow from one paragraph to the next.

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    1. This is like a major compliment and you don’t even know. Thank you dear. That you took the time to add a comment is really helpful. You’re wonderful!☺️

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