I am in kindergarten and I love my teacher. She says I'm good at reading and she gives me stickers. She doesn't know that I am really a bad little girl. I am bad and if she knew she would probably take away my stickers.
My mom is sad. She looks like she will be mad if I keep doing bad things. I am taking a bath and she is in the other room. I have bubbles. I love bubbles. I can take the bubbles and cover my body up; I can hide my face with them and no one will know who I am. I can be a man with a beard. A man with a beard is much safer than I am.
I have to wash my hair. I have very long hair and I hate when we have to wash it. So does my mom. She hates my hair. She also hates me.
I am going to help her; I am going to wash my hair myself. The shampoo runs out of the bottle like honey. I capture most of it with my chubby hands. I lean my head back and rub my hands through my hair. I am doing it right; my mom is going to be happy. The bubbles grow in my hair and I hear the shampoo crackle in my ears. My hair will be really clean and my mom will be happy.
But now the shampoo is running down my forehead and into my eyes.
I did not use my baby sister's shampoo and now my eyes are burning. I am a stupid kid. I splash water in my eyes; water with more bubbles in it. My eyes are burning more and I am splashing lots of water. My mom hears me.
She walks into the bathroom and sees me. I have made her mad. She kneels down next to the bathtub and I tell her what is wrong. She is going to help me. She leans me back to get the soap away from my eyes.
My head is underwater. Soapy water rushes into my mouth and nose. My eyes burn less but I am scared. Even underwater, I can hear my mother's muffled screams.
Rotten... miserable... stupid... hateful... ugly... wish you were dead... child.I try to sit up and I cannot. Her mommy hands are on my chest. I lurch forward again and this time I steal a breath. I can see in color again.
Dead... dead... dead...!She screams louder and louder. Color becomes black and white and screams are muffled once again. I feel my body move with the water and there is peace. I do not struggle. I rest. I relax.
I feel relief. All I hear is the water and it is a peaceful sound. Relief means that the pain will stop. Relief means that I am no longer bad. Relief is murky bathwater pouring in. Relief envelops me. Relief means that my teacher will miss me at school.
My mouth is open and fresh air is invading into my lungs. The water is cold and the bubbles are gone. My mother is sobbing in the corner of the bathroom. My eyes no longer burn. I shiver but I dare not move. I feel cold but I feel so much more.
I am alive and I feel despair.