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Middle School

Are you there God? It's me Emelia again. Hello? Are you listening? Please be listening, Good, I could really use your presence. I crave your attention, for my past week has been hard. You see, from the outside, you could see only that my life is perfect. I look happy and I'm doing well. And from the outside, there is my broad smile and laugh. I'm always with my friends and I'm having fun with being 13 in 7th grade. I think that you've observed that too like you're an outsider to my life. The only difference is, you can actually see it in my head.

But on the inside, I'm hurting right now. I even cried today. You see, it all started Sunday. On Sunday I knew that the week would be hard and that there was another week to go through with. There was a lot that was going to happen and it was going to be busy. My brother vomited, and he got a virus. I now can't talk to him because I may get what he has. I'm worried for him. I want him to be ok. Please, God. Keep him well. I need him.

On Monday, I had to go to the doctor. I went to school, but the thought reminded me constantly. My mom reminded me that I had to get a shot, and even though I thought I proved her otherwise, I found otherwise. Thank you for letting it not pain me much. But then my doctor told me I had to go to a gastroenterologist pediatrician. I had no clue there was even such a thing until I was told to get one.

My mom was in shock. She even told me she was shocked that I had to get one. I barely even know what gastroenterology is, but never thought about whether there were doctors for it. Specifically children doctors for this. On Tuesday when my doctors called my mother and told them about how some of these doctors are from the Childrens' hospital. I never thought that this would ever happen to me, and neither did my mother.

I thought that this was some weird crazy doctor, but I was wrong. Please, god, let me get better so I don't have to keep on all these meds. Help me get better so I don't have to keep worrying about going to one. Help me get better so my family will stop making fun of me. Or telling me things are going to happen if I continue like this. It scares me. I want to get better. Without the doctor. Before I go. Please help me with that goal.

Are you still listening? Ok, good. Just making sure. Anyway, then came Tuesday. I was then starting to find myself having a ton of medicine. And not only that but I was being made fun of by my own family. Besides that, my dad was leaving town the next day. I needed my dad. He was keeping everything in order. But unfortunately, I was then reminded that he was leaving and I was going to have to take care of my mother and brothers. Thank you, for allowing him to not travel this one time.

As I didn't know my dad was staying the majority of Wednesday, I was reminded constantly of how my dad was leaving us. Thank you again. I hope I'm not losing you. Thursday, however, was harder than that. I had already gone through a lot, but not everything yet. Oh no. I then came to find that my mother was unwilling to let me do one of my afterschool activities. I was allowed to do debate club, but I was unable to do my favorite because of my mother. Thank you for eventually allowing her to cave.

I did go, that night, but the people I had to lead were definitely bored by my presentation. I found that they barely listened, and the people who I expected needed it least, turned out to need it the most. Thank you for not making them fight me. Friday, was much easier than the rest of the days, undoubtedly. My report card came in. Thank you for letting me get straight A's. But yet, my parents seem to not care at all. Still listening, sorry, I'm getting on with it as fast as possible.

After everything I've been through this week alone, after everything, my parents seem to not even care about me. They didn't congratulate me or tell me that everything would be fine. They didn't reassure me that everything would be fine. They didn't ask what I wanted to do now on the weekend. They cared more about what my brothers wanted to do instead. They did what they wanted. I feel cheated. I went through all this and more, yet here they are bending to my brothers?

I deserved a free day, where I could say what we were doing. Where my parents did ask what I wanted to do, but yet there was only what they did with and for my brothers and themselves. I know I'm being selfish, but I've been through so much. I should get some reward. All I want to do is go to my favorite store. Please dear God. I plead with you, I ask, if you could see if we could go to the store tomorrow?

I'm sorry for bothering you. I don't write letters to you often, I know. I know we don't have chat's often, but I don't ask for much either. I want you to do this one thing for me. This one time. I'm begging you. It's so hard to live in a pandemic, where everyone around you is so confused about how to deal with this. I pray every day and before the pandemic, I went to church nearly every week. Please allow me this one wish. I've been asking for months now. Please allow me this one thing, this one time.

Please, and thank you so much,

Emelia.

February 06, 2022 00:49

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