Walk In Issy's Shoes: How it begins

They told me not to flap my hands because it looked weird. They said to clap instead. But clapping doesn't feel as good. It feels ok. I still get happy.But it doesn't last as long because I had to try to remember not to flap and it rubbed some of my happy away.

Some of them were nice. But some of them were so boring. And it was too long. When I wanted to say the same words they made me say different words. They told me use your words. I have to use my words. Those words hurt my head to say. My words are soft and round. The other words are not my words. I like my words. I say them in my head now.

They made nice faces when my mommy was there. They did not make nice faces when my mommy wasn't there. When my hands were loud and my feet were loud they made mad faces. They used loud hands to make me have quiet hands.

They had cool games on the iPad. Way better than the baby games my daddy got for me! But they let me play so short. I don't like short. I want just a little more. I tried to say it in my own way, but nobody understands.

She is new. Ms. Megan said the f word and left. Now Ms. Ashley works here. She is pretty and she smiles. I wanted to be nice. I didn't want to hit her. But her smell hurt my nose and pain my head. Her hair smells strong. Her clothes smell strong. Flowers but bad flowers. Not like garden flowers. Flowers in a bottle that you spray that are not real. It hurts. It hurts. I didn't want to hit. I told my hands to be quiet hands. But she hit me first with her smell. My hands will not listen. They will not be quiet. They only want to stop the hurting. They hit and hit and hit. If I could flap maybe I could feel better. But I have to be a good kid. I have to have quiet hands.

Maybe I am not good. My hands are always wrong. My words are always wrong. My eyes are always wrong. I am always wrong.

I am bad.

By Anonymous