Walking GhostI was bullied on a regular basis in elementary. Ask me how it happend and I still dont know. I think it was the year I had developed my breasts and my body had begun to change. I remember being an easy target for my male classmates.. my elaborate dresses my mother would send me to school with begun to wane.. and I started wearing more and more jeans and sweaters. My hair was in a constant static rise.. yes I would have hair sticking up like a fro. I started to isolate myself, I would sit on the 4th level of the fire escape of my school. When it was raining I would hide in the washrooms. The school was more then 80 years old at the time, so these washrooms where like labaryths.. I still see them in my dreams. When my life is at a standstill I walk thru them in my dreams.. they are wall's made of falling bricks, and are earily familiar to me. I spent most of my childhood in them.
I remember crying, I remember the hurt it caused me. I am still affected by these memories even as an adult. I carry this emotional weight, and how I was isolated without reason. Inside there is a little girl wishing someone could understand her, that I had soo much to give but was not allowed to. Instead she stands in the corner watching how I have become this guarded adult.
I'm lucky I came to canada when I was a child, given an education, but still I cannot comprehend even at this stage in life why when you have come from such a poverty stricken place where I had soo much love, where neighbors banded together at our worst moments to come to a country that has so much oppourtunity only to experience cruelty and isolation.