'Reveal'
________
"I just want all of this to be over"
Is all Liberty Carter desires for years. She only wants change in her life after her father's devastating death. And so she did what it takes to make that true. But the inevitable need to get b...
The event conducted just beyond this sign may contain triggering and/or sensitive material. Eating Disorders, Bully Issues, and Potential Self-harm are some topics mentioned within this event.
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Liberty's pov.
I spent my life living in denial, being someone else was a part of me. With all these storms and fiasco that have been washing me that felt like an eternity, I wished I could say, I've developed a resistance, but nobody really does, sometimes they shake and tremble a little, sometimes it tremors and break you into millions of pieces but sometimes it made you see.
A pretender is what I am.
I act tough and dauntless which successfully fooled everyone. Some even say I was their idol, saying I was cool. At least I nailed this horrible character.
Parents, I wish they knew more than they thought they do. They probably know my favorite color, my favorite food, and what I will always order at McDonald's but, what if I tell them I was bullied when I was in 6th grade? they didn't know I was mentally abused, had insecurities about every inch of my body, how I critic myself so much, how I secretly used to swallow my diet pills like they were skittles, even when I was utterly skinny just because I believe what the crowd says about me and just so I could feel better for another day.
How I cried in the bathtub late at night, the moments when I can't stop stress over little things, thinking about how to survive another day at school.
They never knew and I wish it was simpler. I was used to it as I get older, that I let myself slowly, sink in my own darkness without letting out a hand to beg for help or mercy because a lot of times I tried, but no hands to reach.
There was nothing more that I asked for than, having dad at school on my report card day. Only to feel safer when the bullies see him, and nothing more than seeing mom, sitting on that chair with her name stick on it at the hall. Just to watch my dance group performance when I was in kindergarten. I won't trade any of these experiences for toys, not for my favorite singer, not for my dream boyfriend, and not for the brand new iPhone. No.
It was Saturday in the afternoon, and nothing ever bother my weekend so much than knowing my father's leaving New York again today, in about a few minutes.
I stay in my bed, scrounging my CD collection of many famous singers, and keep on skipping the songs from Whitney Houston's playlist on my radio. While mom was at the kitchen, drinking her usual home-made orange juice, Jacob was sprawling at the cushion, engrossing his favorite football channel, and dad was in his room upstairs, the same level as mine, getting ready.
Alone in my room, I kept on cursing and criticizing everything in my head about all the songs that seems fine before and commonly soothes into my soul. But I find the beat was a little chaotic today. I kept on pressing the next button nonstop until the songs came to an end, I lost myself, pondering onto the radio while my other fingers knocking together impatiently on the bed.
