In the simplest term possible, I sabotaged myself. I knew that everything I said would be used against me, yet I chose to speak. They tormented me about every little thing I said. If I forgot the homework, I was stupid. If I had a crush on somebody, I was a slut. If I was in any mood other than downright elation, I was depressed. My friends left me so that they could salvage some of their social status. My family, well, they were never there for me. Everybody was either a bystander or a bully.
I felt small and weak for the longest time. They were torturing me and I handing them the ammo. I was basically handing my opposite the gun. So one day, I just stopped and realized that I could stop this. I could stop my agony right there and then. So, I closed my mouth. And ever since that day, my silence has been a defense.
You can’t hurt me because I have no words to say.
I was taunted for a while, but it stopped eventually. My family couldn’t care less. The teachers got over it. And, finally, I was off in my own world, where nobody could reach me. It was wonderful. But hideously lonely.
Whenever anybody met me, they were put off by my silence and left me alone. I was satisfied, to say in the least. But then, Chase came along. He knew I didn’t talk. But yet he introduced himself as if I was any other girl.
“Hey! I’m Chase! You must be Chastity. We should hang out sometime!”
I was put off. He was outlandishly open, and had on a goofy, lopsided smile. His bushy hair didn’t help even out his childish appearance. It took me a moment to shake his outstretched hand. He looked so innocent. I couldn’t imagine him hurting me like the others.
Stay strong, I told myself. But I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant anymore.