rosewrites

United States

An average girl who always has her nose in a book.
INFJ-T
HSP
She/her
16
EST. since August 2019
Junior in High School
A walking contradiction
Writing pal - enma
Profile Photo from Picrew.me

Message to Readers

Hey there! Thanks for stopping by. I know I don’t post very often, so I appreciate the love and feedback when I do! Drop a like and comment and maybe I’ll be back on to add one to one of your pieces! This one was weird. My life seems so short in this little synapses, but yet, in the moment, so long.

catalog

March 26, 2021

PROMPT: Year by Year

2
Year 1: Siblings, smiles, learning all the things about the world. The memories aren’t hers, but pictures in a scrapbook. 

Year 2: More of the same, like year number 1. Walking and beginning to talk. Curly red ringlets surround her face. 

Year 3: A bubbly little soul dances everywhere, not scared of anything. She plays outside every waking moment, the youngest of three. 

Year 4: Not the youngest anymore. There’s another in the midst, a little brother, who the young girl adores. She goes to pre-school and makes friends to have for life. 

Year 5: The best year yet, fearless, energetic, creative little firecracker. She doesn’t care what people think. Not one bit. Probably because she has no idea others think about her. Kindergarten. 

Year 6: 1st grade. Her teacher grows her love for books. She makes more friends, all on her own. 

Year 7: She thrives, for the most part, and second grade grows her thirst for knowledge. Her family gets a cat. And then a dog. 

Year 8: She feels very old. Seven is a whole lot bigger than six or five. She decides that handwriting might be important, but multiplication facts won’t ever matter. She sings, dances, and tells stories. 

Year 9: If seven was old, what’s 8? The cat dies. She’s scared of the dark. She plays in the basement with her friends, the twins. American girl dolls and the trampoline. 

Year 10: Her family is moving. Not very far, but she’s still not happy. She was about to be 10 in that house. Things start to feel fragile and scary. 

Year 11: Double digits and doesn’t she know it. 4th graders are big and important. She reads hours on end, plays outside, and loves the sun, except when it burns her skin. 

Year 12: The loops set in. She’s stuck in her head at night, trying to understand the entire universe in her little mortal mind. And middle school. Her friends are too cool for her, she’s all on her own. 

Year 13: She meets new friends in the drama club, begins to draw. She sings and writes stories. She really wants a kitten. 

Year 14: A teenager. That doesn’t seem right. She’s Nala in the Lion Kind Jr, even though she was scared. She had to hold a boys hand. The looping continues, but life goes on. 

Year 15: High school is big, and she feels so small. The seniors are basically adults. Her English teacher is awesome, and she writes and sings more and more. But slowly, her happiness seems to be drifting away. The endless loops are eating her. 

Year 16: Things change. She decides she wants to know Jesus better. She decides her friends ditching her doesn’t have to matter. She decides fifteen is the worst age to be. “You know you are old enough to drive and work, but you can’t.” She learns to play guitar. Her mind continues to loop. 

Year 17: Sweet sixteen starts in quarantine. Her permit test gets cancelled. Twice. She’s a sophomore, then a Junior. If you look at her now, you’d have a hard time finding the bubbly kid she once was. Trapped in her head, she writes to let it all free. But sometimes she forgets. She gets sucked into a numbing cycle of consuming media. She feels far away from God. She hates that. She learns that all this time, it’s been OCD. She’s almost seventeen. 

For the years to come, like year 18, she dreams and hopes for brighter days. The world around her cracks and breaks, and all she wants to do is force it all back together, find justice, world peace. But the world doesn’t listen to little girls. At least not now. She dreams, big and little. She dreams of publishing a book. Of writing a musical. Of being a social worker. Of the days when she can give her best friend a hug again. Most of all, she has a little bit of hope. A tiny ray of light seems to still shine. 
I realized that year 1 is age 0, and that threw me off, hopefully it doesn’t to you. That’s why it all seems wrong. 

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  • March 26, 2021 - 5:17pm (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • Rohan’s Defender (Semi-Active)

    Awww, wow. Thank you so much for sharing this about your life. I love how detailed it is. I’m really sorry about your anxiety; I’ve had it too for most of my life. If you ever need to talk or anything, I’m here for you.


    about 2 months ago