Witness

I am a witness. Wherever I go, I will always be the witness. It never changes no matter what state I go. I am a witness of bullying. A witness of suicide. A witness of fights. I am the person who is always on the sideline. I wish I wasn’t the witness. I wish I wasn’t the accomplice. I have helped ruin relationships. I have listened to the slander they say when someone wasn’t around. I even sometimes hear the slander they say about me. The worst part of being the witness is watching the people in front of you. I witness my family fall apart.

I witness my father talking about his sister cutting as if she was an example of what not to be.
I witness my grandmother cut off her daughter as if it was all her fault.
I witness my aunt blatantly say how she dislikes her sister.
I witness my uncle not inviting his sister.
I witness her daughter ignoring her.
I witness her son refusing to see her in his last moments.
I witness my grandfather sneaking out to secretly see his daughter.
I witness her other daughter stand quietly, not knowing which side to take.
I witness myself standing quietly.

I am not a child. I am not an adult. I am not ready to hear these things for I am too young to understand and old enough to understand the wrongdoings of my aunt.

I am a witness. No matter my age. But, no one will ever be my witness.
When I was about to take my life. When someone else almost takes my life.
No one saw but me. I was my own witness.

Being a witness hurts. Watching is hard. Listening is difficult.