To be a Doll
I was a doll. I had been for the past four years of my life. I was a play thing for a in a friends eyes. She could use me in any way she wanted. She is the reason why I believe that no one has the right to use some one else.
I met this friend in junior high when I was shy, lonely friendless and severely depressed. She was outgoing, confident, and friendly to say the least. She was also emotionally unstable and felt the need to belittle those close to her. That was the only way this girl could feel good. This consisted of ridicule for the smallest things, unwanted tickling and pocking, and treatment as if you were insignificant. I had never had any close friends before her so I did not notice. Weather that was because I didn’t see it or because I did not want to see it I don’t know.
I started to withdraw from her when she stole my first kiss away from me. I know that sounds shallow, but my mind is planted on the idea that the event should have been special. My friend knew this and took it way as a joke anyway. Childish yes, but it is what started me down the long path of breaking away from my “owner.”
I became fed up when she would start crying every time I expressed I had plans with others, insisting that I was ditching her. She claimed that I left her out of events that she attended, just because I was speaking to another person. I couldn’t take the relationship any more.
So after four years harassment I approached her. “I don’t want to have contact with you outside of school; and while in school I want as little interaction as possible.” Those were my exact words. When she asked why I used the excuse that she had called me a bitch, which she had done a few days earlier. The girl seemed fine with it, thinking I was playing some sort of game with her.
Two days later she called my home realizing I was serious. She was sobbing “I’m sorry. I don’t want to loose you as a friend.” Her tears had no affect on me. I had seen and heard them so many times before. The conversation ended when she hung up to go to work. My friend said that we would finish this later. I haven’t talked her sense that day two months ago.
I am my own person. I have been for the past eight weeks. I make my own decisions with out the persecution of others. I was once a toy, owned by a friend. Now I see it’s wrong to be played with. I am not a doll anymore.
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