Abigail Monologue

Good Afternoon Abigail,

I am not a heinous person by nature but if I have to, but I can be rude. First off, I don’t know you personally, but I’ve heard of you. Also, no, I’m not good because sometimes life is really horrible, and currently it sucks. Yes, I’m a mess, but I can throw myself together and get through the day. I understand how difficult losing someone close to you is, but I don’t deserve to be guilt tripped by you. I didn’t make any hateful comments about you because I don’t know who you are Abby. Your name was mentioned twice. I said and I quote (because I wrote it), “I wrote that part in the beginning of October because I was incredibly hurt when I found out your new best friend, Abby, was moving or going to Webb.” I also said,

Now to the most important part of my very eminent commentary. Since you don 't know me, let me introduce myself and I guess tell my life story. Hola, hello, I 'm Makayla Kristina Symone Walkez no I 'm kidding, it 's Walkes. I am also sixteen. So from the beginning… I was born in Salt Lake City, Utah-- that 's far, far away from here. My mother and father had me and my brother. His name is D’Angelo. Yeah, I know it 's a cool name. Anyways, my father suffered from manic depression also known as bipolar disorder. Because he grew up on Barbados, he didn 't believe in taking medication, so he didn 't take his mood stabilizers. Throughout my parent’s relationship, they broke up due to my mother believing he cheated on her. He 's not one to fight so he let her believe what she wanted. She left and moved her with her fam. He couldn 't deal with the voices in his head, the racist people, his repressed memories, the gangbangers, and, most of all, my mom packing me and brother up and moving to Webb City, Missouri. So he listened to the voices and shot himself in front of my half-sister’s mom. As a four-year-old this didn 't affect me. I remember his funeral, though. My brother had a panic attack because it was an open casket and he couldn 't comprehend why our father was in a casket with his head shot off then, screamed and ran out to the parking lot. Everyone was looking at me expecting a similar reaction but I approached him and asked my mom, “why does he look like that.” She said

Eventually, she started dating a girl who couldn 't grasp that I was a feminine little beauty queen. She hated that I liked make up and that I wore dresses. She hated that I was a pageant girl, that I played with barbies, and how much I loved my mom. I cried myself to sleep from the loss of mommy love. If I cried too loud, she beat me. If I wasn 't asleep by nine, she beat me. If I knocked on my mom’s door when she was passed out, she beat me. When I interrupted her video gaming, she beat me. If I was too scared to watch a horror movie with her, she made me skip dinner and beat me. Overtime these beatings didn 't fulfill her so she would come in in the middle of the night and whip me with her belt. I realized that if I curled myself in my comforter and wore thick clothing it