sincerely, r

eight

Dear BTS,

I watched a movie today. It was the first movie in a long time that I didn't watch along. Ozzy watched it with me. He actually laid beside me the whole time, watching it.

Well, he did fall asleep during it, but he tried his hardest. And that's all a puppy like him can do.

But, how was your guys' day?

I saw the Twitter post. I'm glad you guys like Ozzy. If I get the time, I'll send a picture of him with my letter.

I think it's really sweet of you all to be reading these. Because like, I'm just another ARMY and here I am, writing a letter to you guys and getting a response, no matter how subtle it may be.

I watched the movie because....I got kind of sad today.

I was cutting potatoes and...I am not proud of it...but I wanted to hurt myself again. I couldn't listen to music because I had to listen for the boiling water and the timer. And without music, my mind wanders. It does that a lot.

But, I thought back to what my mother said to me yesterday. She called me stupid and worthless. I'm a good for nothing daughter. I'm not like my younger siblings.

I was my parents' punching bag, being the oldest and all. They broke me.

I used to be an athlete. I was good. Middle hitter for volleyball, leading in rebounds for basketball, number one hitter for softball. I even worked my ass of in swim and became the best backstroker, better than our orignal backstroker.

But my volleyball coach made me so depressed. She would scream at us and tell us how bad we sucked. I sprained my ankle during volleyball, and I'm crying on the ground. What does she do? She screams insults at me, my whole team watching, too scared to do anything. She threw a volleyball at me and cussed as she pulled out her phone to call our trainer.

I went home and cut myself that day.

She called me a failure.

Failures don't deserve to be happy.

I quit sports after that year. All but swim. I stayed in swim because I coached 6-8 year olds. They made me smile.

My hometown praises sports. That's all anyone cares about. I started sports when I was 8. They breathe sports where I lived. My father and mother were so upset after I quit. I'm nothing to them. I care about the arts, and that's unacceptable.

I'm a quitter.

That's what I am. I'm a failure that quits.

Life got worse after I quit sports. And it was because I wasn't one of those athletic robots they raise in my hometown. Because I was different.

Why can't anyone love me?

Sincerely, R