Yes, you’re right, I am evil. Yes, you should be afraid of me. You don’t even know why, but I do. You want me to be pretty and sit still and be quiet. When was the last time you told me you loved me? It would be so much more convenient for you if I would just die, but you can’t make me. 'The only time I take off my mask is to wash my face.' I know you think it’s because of the people I hang out with, but really these scars on my arms are just tally marks on the prison walls. You didn’t see me when I was perfect. Do you see me now that I’m an embarrassing mess for you to clean up? Too bad, really. I used to be such a nice girl."
Today, looking back, the start of my downward spiral is quite evident. It just took me a long time to see the connection.