Too Weak, Too Afraid {memo}

Have you ever been so afraid of people that you wish you didn't exist? Have you ever been so hated by people that you hate yourself? Have you ever felt so alone that you didn't--couldn't talk to anyone?

I have.

My name is Joselyn Carter. I used to be happy...I used to have friends...I used to be me. But now imnothing.

I used to live in Virginia with my parents. That was before my dad was promoted...before he had to move to New Zealand...before they left me. Now I live with my uncle...well sorta. He's an alcoholic and a druggie...but he keeps it under wraps. I know what you're thinking...he beats me and that's why I'm sooo miserable. No...he actually doesn't abuse me. Instead of getting violent, he gets crazy and does stupid stuff...like driving to Canada at 1 am. He's rarely ever home...so that leaves me all by myself...alone.

You'd think that southern Alabama would be a great place to live...great weather, great beaches, great people...but in Miflin, Alabama everything is far from great...only for me though. I'm the only minority in this town...the only black person. I attend Franklin B. White (ironic huh?) high school...and I'm a senior. 3 whole years in this place has broken me...but soon I'll be outta here. I'll go to college far away...of course not my dream school Stanford University...my grades aren't good enough. It's not that I'm stupid...I prolly would be in my class's top 3% at least...but they would never let that happen. Actually I would be failing if it weren't for Mrs. Wilson. She's the only one who cares, the only one who's fair and nice, the only one who's humane. She's the one who catches them when they try to fail me...somehow she sets everything staight...she's even tried to take the matter to her husband, Mayor Wilson. But after the first time she tried 3 years ago, she's never tried again...idk what happened by I was too afraid to ask b/c I could tell she was afraid..and Mrs. Wilson was never afraid. Even though she is the only one there for me, I still can't trust her...I still can't talk to her...

I'm still alone.

Besides...she doesn't save me from everything. The other teachers still mock me and insult me...they still say I'm stupid and wrong...they still treat me unfairly like it's in their job description. And the kids there...they are even worse. They spit on me, push and shove me, throw down my books, yell at me, play evil pranks on me. I try not to look at how bad things are...instead I'm thankful that it's all been low-scale...nothing life-threatening. Most of the time they all ignore..like I'm not even worth their notice...but a few of them have made it their life goal to hurt me...to hate me. 2 of them are the ringleaders of their gang...the richest, prettiest, most popular girl...Whitney Lakeland and her soulmate and male clone...the rich, handsome, popular Blake Wilson. Yes...Wilson...son of Mayor Wilson and Mrs. Wilson. The apple really doesn't fall far from the tree. They and their crew of boys and girls torment me everyday for everyone to see and laugh at. They say I'm ugly, worthless, stupid...they make racial insults I don't even want to repeat..they even call me the n word. They say my color was a birth defect...that I shouldn't even be alive..they say I was a mistake.

And I believe every word.

Even though my life truly is hell, I've never even thought about suicide. I mean I really don't want to live...but I don't want my life taken away, even by myself. I just am so afraid...of everyone and everything. It seems as though for 3 years all my emotions have disappeared except fear and sadness. Hope rarely comes...only when I am reminded of how little time there is between now and graduation...when i can leave this place for good. Happiness never comes...but peace does.

I love music...its been a part of my life for so long...its the only thing I have left from the old me. I managed to bring along my electric keyboard...its small and old and some of the keys don't work all the time...but I love and cherish it. I don't even have to write down the notes of the songs I make...I remember every single one. When I hear my music...its like it's talking to me and I talk back with every key I play. It's almost as if I'm not alone anymore...and I'm at peace and all my fears are gone. Because I'm afraid of being alone...I NEED someone...someone who I can talk to and trust...someone who loves me and doesn't think of me as a mistake...someone who doesn't hate me because I'm black. I know I eventually will find someone...friend or lover, guy or girl, black or white--I DONT CARE!

The thing is... I really don't know if I can let myself talk to or trust anyone...I don't know if I'm strong or brave enough to let anybody in...

And that's what scares me the most.