Rapunzul

Trapped. Imprisoned. Lockedup. Shutin. Stuck, thosewordsallequalonething....me.That'srightme, I amheldcaptivebynoneotherthanmyparents. Ohbutdon'tworryI don’t get mistreated.

You know the story about that one girl Rapunzel, sometimes I feel like her. I’m 15 I know that that means I’m technically old, strong, and smart enough to get out, but really I’m not. I may be 15, but that’s nothing more than a number to me, I don’t think I have the same mental maturity as every other people my age, I don’t even know what the average teen mentality is. Strong enough, no way, my dad is at least 3 times as strong as me. Smart enough nope I never attended school; I only know what my parents want me to know those things include reading, math, and writing (all at a 6th grade level). Maybe if I had outside help I could get out. They control what I eat, watch (no television for me), read, hear and do on a daily basis. I guess for any other kid this would be hell, but it’s all I’ve ever known.

All the doors only lock and unlock from the outside. So basically if they want to lock me up in just my room they can, which is scary because sometimes they forget about me and go on trips for a few days. Good thing they put a fridge in my room. I spend a lot of time looking outside the windows of my living room or bedroom they’re barred up to keep in of course.

I remember this one day almost 7 years ago these new people moved into the house in front of us. It was like three months after I turned 8, he was the only other kid I’d seen besides myself. We were about the same age and yet we looked and seemed so different. I always thought all kids stayed locked inside and dressed like prep kids. All my other neighbors are old people with no children or grandchildren. Anyways 17 days later he brought over other kids I felt happy for him and really sad at the same time. After a while I figured out it wasn’t sadness, but loneliness. I watched them play and pretended I was a part of it. I never talked to them; I don’t think they were even aware of my existence. That’s okay though I wouldn’t want them to know because then I’d know if they cared or not. His friends came over every other Friday and I’d always watch them, even when he got new ones.

Every year they threw him a party on October 31. Everyone dressed up and ate then they all left and came back, but for some reason they stopped after his 14th birthday. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why. Over the next 2 years he began to change, first new friends, then new clothes, and then he got these shiny things on his lip and nose. Basically he looked like my worst nightmare. While he evolved into what he is now; I remained exactly the same as before. I still wore vests, dress shirts, and dress pants. My body, face, and mind remained untouched, or as my parents would say untainted.

Notes

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