Since I was little, you didn’t like me. 
I don’t know why. 

You would always say something to hurt me and my parents. 

Many times did my family leave crying, from your house. 

At one point my sister didn’t want to visit you anymore.
She didn’t like it. 
You would always say something to hurt us.
She is the oldest, so she understood more than I. 
My parents had to pay her to visit your house. 

It’s just me you don’t like. 
Everyone else you are fine with. 

You don’t like the way I speak or the sound of my voice. 

The way I walk. 
The way I dress. 
The way I think. 
The way I breathe. 

I remember once. 
It was some time after I had finally finished high school after such a hard battle with many school changes and many teachers who were just like you. 

My parents were so proud. 

So were my siblings. 

The whole family was together at your house. – 
This was sometime after my celebration. We were talking and you said “That’s not a real high school.” My cousin asked why and you said “It’s just not real high school in my eyes.” – Even when it is. 
My older sister heard it all but she was scared to say anything, so there wouldn’t be a new fight.
Why so much hate? 
Why so much hurt?

You did a lot of hurtful stuff to us. 

But now, before anyone can do it to your children, you stop.  

You spread false rumors about my siblings and I. 

Fill our ears against each others. 
Say you will help if needed. 

When my sister asked you for help. 

You didn’t. 

I know what you are. 

We know what you are. 

I know you hate me.

I know you will always hate me. 

Just remember. 

The only reason I see you is because we are family. 

It is supposed to mean something. 

Something you haven’t shown me. 

I am sorry. 

Sorry for not being perfect. 
Sorry for you too. 
– A letter
P.S. My life is not as lonely as you would think.