Sk64 (2016-07-13 00:31:34)

---

Let's remember. Remeber really far back. Even then, the adults treated me like I was broken, almost from the very begining. I am broken. I am not like everyone else. I am not equal to everyone else.

(Everyone has authority and power over poor stupid Skits because it's an idiot. I could understand if it was an autistic boy, that's normal. We know how to deal with that now. A broken girl? Now that's disgusting. What a waste)

Second Year? If everyone got in trouble, I got in four times as much trouble for doing nothing. People watched me like a hawk for the whole school day.

(Skits, dirty rat, if it does so much as breath wrong, ruin it's poor miserable excuse for a life)

Third year? Everyone I thought I could trust turned on me and made everything so much worse. So, I did the reasonable thing to do: close of the entire outside world and try to forget it all.

(Hi there, Skits. Do you know what a 'friend' is? Of course you don't!)

They worked so hard, trying to get me to conform to the standards of the utterly flawed system.

(We don't care how much they've beat you up, we know our perfect model students would NEVER do that. They get good marks, remember? I know you can read better than your older perfect model siblings, but anything you do will just never be good enough because you're broken, remember?)

OF COURSE I REMEMBER. I CAN'T FORGET ANYTHING!!

And the fourth? They gave up. They just... gave up. Or so I thought. On my birthday, my freaking birthday, the demons sent me to the dungeon. Literally.
Stuck in the basement for hours a day, with nothing but evil teachers trying to find out what makes you tick. Oh, sorry, I mean 'help'. If you're 'helping', how come no one is getting any better? Why do I hear the morning kids screaming? You don't help. I feel worse every second I'm near this place!

(Skits, it's very rude to talk back. Sit out in the hallway for the next hour while we torture the other aspies. Then, we'll call your parents and make them hate and lose all trust for you for the next two years)

I can't forget about that, either. Haha.
Every. Single. Day.
That hellhole was just where they stuck the aspies for a few hours because they got tired of them. They did not teach these so-called 'strategies'. All the demon spawn did was traumatize me even more. I'll give them credit: I didn't think that was possible.
Fifth? Oh, god.
I got beat up by the teacher's pet everyday. He continued with the "they wouldn't do that" excuse, calling me a liar for getting bullied. The teacher's pet was rewarded for putting up with me, the lying idiot, quite often.

(First, you tell me that my beloved Kay is not being an angel, and then you try to open up about your suicidal thoughts at age 9?! You're in big trouble, Skitster!)

I tried so hard to be strong. I put up with it for months. It wasn't until the end of the year when she said how much she wanted me to die.
I couldn't line up with her and the other kids to go home. So, I locked my self in a bathroom stall for a while until everyone had left the school. It's weird to say that that moment was the first time I had ever felt in control of my fate. In a bathroom cubicle. I'm that weird.

This post has been edited one or more times, the last time was:
2016-07-13 00:58:13

---