Hello, I’m Carly, I’m 17 now, but this story happened when I was 15… I refused to talk and to eat to get rid of my abusive parents who were poisoning my life. My whole life my parents were... not nice. They forbade me to do almost everything and would scream at me every time they got the chance. When I was 5, I got very sick and feverish, I couldn’t even get up from my bed, but my parents thought I was faking it. When they were taking me to the doctor, by bus, I was crying, but they told me that I was embarrassing them and that if I didn’t stop, they would take me back, so I had to hold back my tears all the way there. When I started school, they wouldn’t let me out of my room, because they expected me to study all the time and then sleep. On the weekends my parents would go out and make me stay home and clean the entire house. If I would refuse, they would scream at me and confine me to my room, the same as during the week.
They would never let me talk, I had to be as silent as possible, so by the time I was 15, I had no friends at all, simply because I was afraid to talk to anyone. My classmates, and even my teachers, hated me because they thought I was weird. When I wished happy birthday to Emily, one of the girls from our class, and gave her a necklace I made myself, she laughed at it and threw it in the trash because it was ugly. I took it out of the trash and they continued to laugh at me, calling me a “hobo.” When a teacher asked me something, I couldn’t answer because I was too scared, but they thought I was stupid. Every time I tried to explain my situation at home, they would get angry at me because I was coming up with excuses…
So I gave up. I stopped talking at all. No more talking, because it made everything worse. I also hoped that maybe someone would notice it and it would help me somehow…
Every time a teacher asked me something, I stayed silent. They would get angry but then just forget about it and move on. During breaks I would sit alone, but people would come to me, trying to test my patience. One guy, Emmet, who would bully me a lot, would shout in my ear as loud as he could, trying to get a reaction from me, but I didn’t do anything. Sometimes this guy would even come to my house and throw eggs at my window or some stuff like that. He really hated me.
Emily and her friends would ask me questions, and when I didn’t respond, they would physically push me. One day they all were chewing gum and spat them out in my hair. I noticed it only after a few hours of people laughing at me. I gave myself a very short haircut - and it looked extremely ugly. At some point they all gave up on me and left me alone, because I wasn’t reacting. The last one who talked to me was Emmet. He told me, “maybe if you stood up for yourself you wouldn’t be so pathetic.
And finally, all this silence “paid off.” After numerous complaints, I was sent to the principal and he was asking me questions, but of course I didn’t answer. He thought I was mocking him and called my parents. When they came, they were acting all nice and told him that I was sick, I mean mentally, and that maybe I just needed a month at home to heal and stuff. At this point I remembered what Emmet said and I finally spoke up.
I wanted to tell him everything about how I was abused my whole life, how I was like a slave in my own home and that they hated me, I wanted to speak for the first time in MONTHS, but... my parents quickly shut me up by telling the principal that I just forgot to take my medication and that I just needed some time at home. The principal didn’t care and agreed to let me stay at home.
I was devastated. Even when I said something it didn’t help. My parents were screaming at me the whole way home, saying how embarrassed they were to have such a useless and ugly daughter, and I wasn’t responding. Before, they didn’t even notice that I wasn’t talking, but now it got on their nerves.
At home they continued to scream at me, demanding that I start talking, but I didn’t, it was a protest and the best thing I could do to annoy them. My mom took my favorite childhood toy, a bunny. Even at 15, I was still sleeping with him. She took him by the head and said “talk.” I didn’t, so she ripped his head off and threw him out the window. I could sew pretty well, so I ran outside to get him back, but my Dad blocked my way and then took me to my room.
They locked my door, demanding that I start talking and they took away my phone and my books. I was lying down in an empty room, and the only thing I could do was look out of my window...
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