You Win, World
My name is Maria Patterson. Don't call me Mary. I have no friends. Everybody hates me. Everybody at school hates me, my family hates me. I don't know why, I'm so charming. I guess I'm a little too real for people and I always have been. I first started being too real when I showed up to school with bruises from home. It was in people's face and they couldn't handle it. Everything I do I'm in people's face, I have no control over it, I can't avoid it.
Now I'm 16 years old, it's grade 11, and I learn there's a petition online for me to kill myself on one of the popular girl's Facebook feeds. Nobody's reported it. I'm not going to report it, I'm not a whinny bitch about this kind of thing. Or at least I don't want people to see me as that. Everybody sees me alone but I won't have people seeing me as a sad sack. This isn't the story of a sad sack.
Everybody's signed it.
In Kindergarten I was pleasant. I loved the world and the world loved me. I had friends, I had fun, I was full of life and I was the best person I'll ever be. I was innocent. I got beat at home, me and my brother both did, but we didn't know that was something that makes you sad and angry. It was just parenting. Mom got beat. It was just marriage.
Mom was meek. Mom always turned the other cheek. She obeyed, she didn't challenge, she ignored, she didn't defend.
I would play with the other kids and have fun. I wanted to go to school.
Then in grade 1 I started coming to school with bruises. The teachers were very concerned, I became a big spectacle and the other kids avoided me and my problems. So I started acting out. I would swear, I would make fun of the other kids. All the other kids hated me and I became a social reject.
The teachers thought it was because of my situation at home, but I didn't care about that, it was because of the situation with the other kids. They knew I had... "problems." And kids being kids, them being uncomfortable with me led to them making fun of me, they didn't even know what they were doing. But I knew. I always knew and I always know. I see people. I know what they're doing. They don't know what they're doing but I know what they're doing.
By grade 3 my brother and his friends would make fun of me too. They started school and they learned right away what I didn't tell them. My brother was meaner at school than he was at home. Sometimes at home I got the feeling he was sad for making fun of me but he would never say it. He learned from dad not to show weakness. So he would still make fun of me at home but... Tamer.
Then I started getting into fights. Fights with boys, fights with the other girls, fights with everyone. I would have fought the teachers if I could.
In grade 3 a big guy hit me real hard in the head, I got a concussion and I had to go to the hospital. All the kids cheered. Apparently I got brain damage that day. I was always a misfit but then I became a psychotic.
I would no longer egg people on into fights, I would no longer make subtle little snarky sarcastic comments, I became very hostile. I went from lashing out a little at kids to outright hostility towards everyone. It wasn't sarcastic and subtle it was just plain mean.
And so it remains to this day.
Middle school was the worst. The kids who used to ignore me now started to openly make fun of me. Instead of being made fun of a little I became the target for literally everyone. I was the butt end of every joke, every prank. Kids would pretend to be my friends just so they could prank me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. There never was a third, though they tried. They must have thought I was stupid.
They did think I was stupid. I didn't get very good grades. "Broken brain Mary" they said. "A psychiatrist couldn't help you" they said. They were right about that one.
After becoming more of a victim I got scared to lash out. I was scared but I did it anyway. It's like I couldn't help it, it just came out of me. Hostility just came out of me. My soul wanted me to calm down but my brain didn't listen.
My brain thought up elaborate plans on how I was going to get them. I wanted to kill them. I planned it out on paper.
Then I started high school. The torment wasn't as bad as middle school but everyone had a deep resentment towards me. The kids who came from other middle schools learned right away.
My brother buried whatever sadness he had towards making fun of me and became just as hostile at home as he was at school. He had suppressed that part of himself and became... Something else. So I wanted to kill him too. And dad. And mom for allowing this. They became part of my plan.
The getting made fun of turned more into getting shunned.
I still got into fights. I beat up the popular girl Lynn more than once. It felt good, but I didn't hurt her physically as bad as she hurt me emotionally. Or at least used to. Kinda numb to it now.
Every time still builds my resentment but my resentment wasn't at the front of my mind any more. It was just this strange little thing I observed with detachment.
I dyed my hair black and started wearing all black. The goth kids kind of dabbled in talking to me but they mostly kept their distance.
And then a boy liked me.
Strangely enough he was one of the popular kids. Which of course throws up many red flags. To this day I'm still pretty sure he was only with me so he could turn on me later for laughs. He insists he was not. And he never really did. Not really anyway.
His name was Braden. He had a history of toxic relationships with popular bitches.
He would tell me "You're dark and strange... And I'm not used to that in the girls I date. See, I date the popular girls. The popular girls are hot, but they're boring, and they're fucking dumb. You're not boring or dumb." "Or hot?" "You're beautiful. And you tell it like it is. People will often call you a bitch but they can never call you wrong. You're not wrong." "Even with the bitch in it that's still the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Anyone." "I want to stop you from hurting." "No! No... You don't! You want to hurt me. And you're disguising it as sensitivity that just makes it so much worse." "What do I have to do to make you realize I like you?" "There's nothing..."
But still I took his name out of the plans. For now.
So we casually dated for a couple months and then the petition happened. And everybody signed it but him. Even my brother signed it, then made a crass joke about it on Facebook, just so show how hardcore he is.
For the first time in a long time I cried.
I mean, I get it, I get why everybody hates me, and I refuse to be a sad sack about it. I kinda only keep on existing in order to spite the world. I don't want to kill myself because then the world wins. I mean... Maybe the world will win. I just hope in the afterlife I can haunt all the popular kids.
And then Braden had enough. He still swears he wasn't with me to fuck me over. He just realized my edge isn't my shell, he realized my edge goes to my core, and he couldn't do it.
...And then he signed the petition. That makes everybody.
For the first time in my life I got drunk. I got real drunk. I got alcohol poisoning drunk.
I looked at my plans to shoot the place up, then I threw them out.
I drew myself a hot bath, got in and slit my wrists.