Why?
BY RYLEE KUHN
Why does everyone hate me? What did I do? I look through the window at everyone else and all I see is beauty. I can’t tell them, though. They won’t let me. All I can do is mouth the words they want me to. But, instead of saying the things I want to like “you look so beautiful,” they make me say terrible things that I don’t mean. They make me say things like “you are so ugly,” “I hate how you look,” “If only you were thinner.” When I say these things, it makes them cry. I don’t mean any of it, but they won’t let me tell them that. Every time they cry, it hurts so bad. I want to be truthful, I promise. They just keep moving me like a puppet and all I can do is watch as my silent words destroy them. This is not who I want to be. This is not who I was made to be, either. Even though, their words hurt me, too. They make me say terrible things to them, but they also say them to me. The only difference is, I can hear them very clearly. “I hate you, why are you so ugly? Why are you so fat? Why do you have that stupid smile? Why do you even exist?” I wish they would stop. I don’t want to be treated this way. I wish the last one true, sometimes. I wish I would just let their words break me. No, I can’t, I have to stay strong. So, maybe one day, one day I might be able to tell them the truth. Maybe one day they won’t keep making me say lies. Maybe one day the tears will stop. I can’t let them break me. I have to stay strong for the day they let me give them my eyes. Then, they’ll finally see the truth. They’ll see the beauty I’ve been seeing for their whole life. I long for that day and I’ll wait for it. It could be any day. That is the reason I still exist. I forgive them for making me lie and say words I don’t mean. And for making me cry with their cruel words, I forgive them. It’s not their fault. They just want to be loved. I wish they knew that I love them and I wish they would love me back.
-Love, your reflection
About Me
Rylee Kuhn is 16 years old. She lives in Houston Texas and is homeschooled.
About her work she says, “My work is like my blood, I can’t live without it. The more I write, the more I feel alive and understand who I am and my purpose in this world.”
HYPERNOVA LIT 