The New Session

                                                                                                                                                                                       

-LittleFawn

(A Tale of Cycles and Shadows)

The new session begins,
A timid soul, I masked my fear,
A lonely child, I willed a cheer.
I ventured forth, I played my part,
Pretending courage, hiding my heart.

I stood before the crowd that day,
Words trembling, nerves in disarray.
My hands shook, my legs did too,
My heart a drum, relentless, true.

Yet through the quakes, I found my voice,
A fragile strength, a daring choice.
The teachers smiled, their faces kind,
But peers dismissed me, deaf and blind.

The new session begins,
I vowed to change, to chase the sun,
To leave behind the gloom I’d spun.
I smiled, I laughed, I made new friends,
Hoping for days that wouldn’t bend.

Lunch was shared; we spoke, we ate,
The teacher praised my effort, my slate.
But envy stirred, unseen, unkind,
Dark whispers brewed within their minds.

The new session begins,
Day five—it was the cafeteria scene,
A space of chatter, mundane, serene.
But on my table, there lay no food,
The silence grew, the air subdued.

For lunch that day adorned my head,
My hair stained, my uniform bled.
Their laughter echoed, sharp and shrill,
The world grew still, against my will.

No words were spoken, no help came,
Just quiet gazes, eyes of blame.
Chosen—yes, that was my role,
The scapegoat carved from my fragile soul.

Chosen to be mocked, to bear,
The brunt of hatred, cold and unfair.
But let me tell you this small truth,
This wasn’t the first—nor the last—abuse.

I tried to change, to shift my face,
To be the “normal” they might embrace.
Yet each new mask, each attempt to mend,
Only sparked new reasons for torment to extend.

The new session begins,
A new school, a fresh domain,
But the shadows followed, just the same.
The faces changed, the names did too,
Yet my suffering stayed achingly true.

I wondered, Should I stay as I was before?
Would gloom have shielded me from more?
But deep inside, I knew the pain,
Would find its way to me again.

What do you do when kindness fails?
When cruelty sails on unchecked gales?
I sought for help, but none arrived,
Left alone to merely survive.

I made friends—or so I thought,
But when storms came, they simply forgot.
The teachers heard, but turned away,
And I was left to rot each day.

The new session begins,
My tormentors laughed, their games renewed,
Spaghetti crowned my head, their feud.
Water spilled to drench my shame,
Their taunts now louder than my name.

They hit, they teased, they stripped me bare,
Until my spirit fractured there.
The cheerful mask I’d tried to wear,
Lay shattered, broken, beyond repair.

I drifted back to who I’d been,
The child of shadows, lost within.
But now, the darkness held a weight,
A crushing force, an endless fate.

I thought of fighting, thought of rage,
But found no strength to turn the page.
Instead, a whisper called to me,
Of final flights and being free.

I climbed the roof, the wind was still,
The stars above, serene, tranquil.
I closed my eyes, released my breath,
And leapt into the arms of death.

For a moment, I felt the air,
Rushing past, devoid of care.
The pain dissolved, the ache subsides,
A fleeting peace where sorrow hides.

And then the ground—it came so fast,
A jarring end to struggles past.
I heard their screams, I felt their cries,
But I was gone, to bluer skies.

The new session begins no more,
My battles ceased, my final score.
Yet as I float, a thought remains,
A question carved in shadowed veins:

Why is it me? Why always me?
What curse keeps pain my destiny?
Perhaps in death, I’ll finally see,
A world that offers dignity.

But as they gather, shocked and torn,
I wonder if my pain’s reborn.
A cycle spins, relentless, grim,
And someone else will wear my skin.

The new session begins anew,
For someone else, the skies turn blue.
And I am gone, a whisper, a plea,
That others might find what eluded me.