Sixteen-year-old Anna's life is a storm of turmoil. Beneath her outward beauty lies a world shattered by major depression, drug addiction, and family neglect. Haunted by traumas she can't escape-including abuse she's too afraid to speak of-she struggles each day just to survive. Desperate to numb the pain, she spirals deeper into self-destructive choices that push her further into darkness. But in the bleakest moments, a flicker of light appears in the form of unexpected romance. The boy she meets is gentle and kind, an anchor in her chaotic world who sees her scars and accepts her without judgment. Their bond brings Anna moments of relief, a sense of belonging she's longed for. Yet as her past continues to drag her down, even love's warmth may not be enough to lift her out. Determined to find peace, Anna begins a painful journey toward self-forgiveness, courageously facing her traumas and the memories she's kept buried. As she teeters on the edge of giving up, the question remains: will Anna overcome the darkness within, or will her past consume her once and for all? MY MESSED UP TEEN a is a raw, unflinching story of survival, resilience, and the power of love.
My name is Anna and I'm 16 years old. My life pretty sucks as I am pretty famous at the hospital and rehab. I struggle with depression, I'm emotionally unstable, rape and family issues contend with the leftover pieces of my sanity. Yet for some odd reason my studies aren't really affected.
My life is full of experiences, I know right! I never had a beautiful memory. At least none that I can recall.
Never had someone to love me. I grew up in a broken home where nothing mattered except keeping secrets and pretending to be okay.
If my life had an eulogy, it would go like this ;
"WOE! TO THE PRINCESS OF THE DARK.
she walks amidst the dangerous sea
her soul crieth but all in vain.
Born to a life of dreadful whore...
her tears flow down a lake of sorrows
blood dripping down her flawless skin...
She cries but no one hears her plea...
Her voice echoes a sound of fear ...
Who can save her from herself?
Who would heal her deepened wounds...?
At night she crawls up to the dark
Seeking refuge in her pain...
No one seems to see her tears
for she lives a life of lonely days
Woe! to the princess of the dark..."
I always cried myself to sleep. Never had a reason to be happy. All I ever did was to drown in my thoughts and write my life in a poem; the only means I had of expressing myself. I never trusted anyone. My life was filled with fear from my parent's words "conceal it". A world of lies and deception.
It all started when I was about 6 years old. Mom never had a real bonding relationship with me...nanny did all her motherly duties and my father always had a bad temper.
He lost control with Mom and slapped her. I could remember I sat there crying, mom sobbing next to me. She got so mad she pushed me away and never cared how I felt.
I clearly didn't understand much but I could feel the heat rising in the house. Nanny always took care of me, she did her best, at least to her capability.
As I grew older, mom never seemed to understand how much I needed her, she was always out somewhere, dad never cared less, he beats her up, got drunk occasionally, yelled at everyone and vented his frustrations at me.
I never got the opportunity to share the happiness of being awarded best in my grades, unlike every other kid. I only kept up with average grades to avoid my parents backlash. My father never gave me moral support, neither did mom.
I was their only child; it was the least they could have done but it seemed they had me by chance. I was my moral support, I learnt the hard way, became withdrawn to myself, life became meaningless, days passing away like nothing else mattered.
It might seem like my life is some sort sentimental and pitiful... but I assure you, the truth cannot be left unveiled.
School seemed to be the only place I could get a little silence from, at least better that home. I never mingled with people only had two friends, Sarah and Alexa.
Walking down to school always felt like walking on sharp edges, I could hear the whispers from different sides, "there she goes. She never speaks ...look how lonely she friends, Sarah words worsened my self-esteem and confidence, I could only keep up with fair grades since that was my only positive distraction.
The year I turned twelve, I began my first period, I went to the bathroom, looking at my panties I almost freaked out. I had a little idea of what happened so I decided to tell Mom about it.
I knocked her room door, slowly opening it, she was on her phone as usual, sitting on the bed I mustered all the courage I had left in me and spoke softly, "hello Mom, I need to speak to you about something's replied reluctantly "Go on."I told her all that happened and what I should do about it since I only had little idea about the situation. She just said "go to your nanny. she'll help you deal with it."
Those words pierced my heart so deeply that I even wondered if she really was my birth mother. She spoke so cold to me like we weren't in good terms earlier, I felt so sad because my friends who were a little older than I was told me about their experiences and how their moms helped them lovingly, it made me start wondering if I even had anyone who cared for me. With a sad face, I went to nanny and she helped me cleanup.
We never really went to church on Sundays. Only occasionally. My world was built around pain concealed in my heart.
I wasn't allowed to speak up about my parent's broken marriage, neither was I given a chance to express myself and live a normal life like every other child the same way my friends did. I was always alone because we never had family gatherings. It made me wonder if our family was a secluded one, exempted from social interaction.
When I turned 13, my parents took in a son of their distant friends for old time's sake. His name was Brandon. I could remember the first day he got to our housemother was such a beauty to behold apparently. He was 17 years old. His had dark blue eyes and an enticing masculine structure.
Mom voiced out "Anna, meet Brandon, he's going to be living with us for some time. "I didn't care less if Mom feigned being too happy but was in a hurry to get back to my room. Dad spoke a bit louder. "Anna, why're you such in a hurry? show Brandon to his room."
I remained calm and tried to welcome him in the best happy tone I could find.
Getting back to my room was like escaping and going into my comfort zone. I lay down on my bed dumbfounded, not knowing what next to do as every day seemed the same.
It suddenly came across my mind that I didn't have an ambition.
why would I anyway? life wasn't meaningful to someone like me. I don't hope for nothing, I just lived the day as it came. My friends talk about their dream goals, but I never really opened up to them, only when I felt the need to so there was a limit to what they could talk to me about.
After school I always walked home alone quietly, I preferred that because I always felt at ease that way, my friends never really understood me, who were they to blame? After all, I never said much to them, I was like the odd one out of the trio. Sometimes I laughed with them...but the longer I did, the more I realize my life never had a touch of beauty to it.
Many times I wondered why I was born into the world since I never did anything special, I felt like a seed mistakenly dropped and sprouting on the land of earth.
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