Burst

Today Anna started writing, so I thought I would try writing myself. Anna has always done well in her writing classes at school, and I had always hoped she would try coming up with her own writing projects. She always talks herself out of things before she even gives them a try. She is so afraid she will fail. Not me though. I have so much confidence. I believe that I could write beautiful stories that could change the world. Yeah, the whole wide world. Anna would think a thought like that was silly, that is if she could hear me.

I think writing will be good for me. It will certainly make me feel less alone. Not that I need anyone. I am strong and independent. Probably the strongest girl in the whole universe. Even for someone as strong as me, It sure has gotten crowded and a lot darker in here. I am not the type to get scared, (trust me I’m the bravest girl you will ever meet), but if I were I would be getting pretty claustrophobic right now. Anna brought so much garbage in here and she refuses to throw it away. I keep trying to show it to her, but then I forget she can’t see me.

I try to rearrange the garbage where it won’t take up so much room, but no matter how hard I try to shove it and hide it still seems to engulf me. Anna is a hoarder. I know she has watched that show about people who keep useless objects in their houses and never throw things away. I know that she has seen how those useless objects pile up around the hoarders. It piles up so much that they can hardly walk through their own home. And they have so much stuff that they have no way of knowing or using everything they have held onto. I specifically remember her watching that show, getting grossed out, and then cleaning out her bedroom. So seeing that, why does she hoard and shove so much hurt inside herself? She has shoved so much in here that she has completely forgotten about me.

I don’t let that get me down though. No, I am strong. I won’t let all of Anna’s sadness, fear, frustration, bitterness, and anger crowd me out. I won’t let that garbage fall over me. I say that while sitting on top of a pile of heartache from the abuse she suffered from her uncle. Different pains from different heartaches lie in piles of tangles and knots throughout her body. Some of the piles are covered in what looks like cobwebs. Some have sat for the entire twenty two years that Anna has been alive. They have lied still, but not dormant, for many many years. To get anywhere I have to climb and stumble over the piles of grime. Some of the piles are even too tall to go over for someone as skilled at climbing as I am. When Anna was younger I used to be able to climb up close to her brain and get through to her a little bit. I would tell her that I am valuable, that I have worth, and that I am capable of so much more than what is expected of me. Now that area is completely blocked off by a pile of lies that Anna believes about herself. Sometimes I get scared that I will never be heard again. No! One day she will clean up and throw some hurts out. After that, I know she will be able to see me again. Then I will be free. Out of this dark and dank body and into the world. I will be seen. That is my dream anyway. If I have anything to do with it that dream will come true. All of my dreams will come true. Unlike Anna, I’m a fighter and I fight to see my aspirations become realities. I will fight until Anna breathes her last breath if I have to. People will see me, just you wait.

Oh dear, here comes another load of filth. I watched it fall with a splat on top of a pile of insecurities. While Anna was writing a poem at her desk, a girl in her class walked by and told her that her hair looked frizzy. Honestly, Anna, you have got to quit taking everything to heart. I have long beautiful brown hair that is sometimes frizzy but in the most gorgeous way possible. That girl was wrong. I know I was made with no mistakes. I hate that this junk about our hair is even in here. I am going to try to find a better spot for that pile of lies. I don’t want it to crowd me. I don’t like sitting still for long. When I do I am reminded that the piles are growing. I will try to write again soon if I don’t get too busy cleaning up. I’ve got to be ready for Anna when she decides to see me.