We?re sorry you were abused, back in the 1970s, before a decent help system was built. We?re sorry that you couldn?t afford therapy. We?re sorry the only calming thing you could afford was cigarettes. We?re sorry your blood pressure is so high that if you were to quit smoking without some aid your heart would burst. We?re sorry that no other treatments have worked because it?s been so long. We?re sorry that your daughter needs special food because of her digestive problems. We?re sorry that your insurance doesn?t cover everything you need. But we?re not going to give you this stronger medicine to help you get better, because you don?t have the money to give us.
We?re sorry your family is poor. We?re sorry you can only afford to live in the middle of nowhere. We?re sorry that you had to fight a mental disorder growing up. We?re sorry the mental disorder was misdiagnosed for eight years. We?re sorry the medication given to you during that time may have ruined part of your brain?s connections(what?s that? Oh no! Of course we won?t actually examine it. That costs money and your insurance just won?t cover it). We?re sorry you can?t afford a psychologist to help deal with your problems. We?re sorry you have digestive problems that limit what you can eat. We?re sorry that you can?t always afford the food you need to replace what you can?t eat. We?re sorry your breathing disorder makes it hard to exercise. We?re sorry that you can?t afford the tuition for the college in your town. We?re sorry that you can?t afford internet to search for scholarships. We?re sorry the time limit at the library won?t let you finish a paper to get a scholarship you found. We?re sorry you can?t afford a medium to copy the paper from your home to the library computers. We?re sorry that you fought your disorder as much as you could alone to get a job. We?re sorry you lost the job because they couldn?t afford as many people as they hired. We?re sorry that the nearest affordable college is two and a half hours away. We?re sorry that you can?t afford a car. We?re sorry that your family can?t afford gas to drive so far. We?re sorry you spend every day confined because you have nowhere to go to get help. We?re sorry that bus fare to the college you can afford is so expensive. But we won?t give you a future, because you don?t have the money to give us.
Why is it that Jessica, the snotty girl from school, who never did work and copied everyone?s paper, gets to go to college to become a journalist, but Marie, who did all her own work, and wrote all her own papers, is forced to sit as the months go by, because even with the scholarships she?s gotten, she can?t afford to go to school.
Why is it that Brittany, who started smoking with her friends to be the life of the party, because she wanted that new boy to notice her, gets the medicine to stop the addiction, when Eliza, who was sexually abused and raped by her cousin, started smoking to find something to comfort her when no one else cared, is diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, and given 6 months to live.
Why is it that Amelia, who refuses to eat anything she decides isn?t part of her new diet, to fit into that new dress she bought last week, gets all the low calorie milk and salad she wants, but Lily, who has a digestive infection that needs to heal, has to make due without any of the food she needs, forcing her to endure hours of pain and the prolonging the infection, or simply go without.
Why is it that little Mary-Sue, who has all the toys and clothes she wants, gets to have that entire restaurant for herself on her 7th birthday, and that 3 layer strawberry cake, and then to go back to that 2 story house to have a sleepover with her friends, when Kimmy, the same age, spends her days helping her mother keep the house clean, and sold the teddy bear her dead grandmother had given her to the kid down the road, and gave her mother the money for food, only gets a hug, and a promise that they?ll get her a gift on their next paycheck, for the third time?
Why is it that Paris Hilton, who has never had to lift a finger in her entire life, sitting on millions of dollars that she?s never done a thing to earn, when the girl down the road, who was beaten and molested by her parents until she was sent to foster care, where she was given nothing on her birthday or Christmas, where she was given only the old, torn, stained clothes for school that the other children didn?t want anymore, and only allowed to eat when the rest of the family had finished, who was given back to her parents when they got out of jail, who was beaten and raped until she was old enough to be kicked out of her parents house, who works scrubbing floors for ten hours a day every day of the week, forced to go without food or electricity in order to have a roof over her head. Why is it she?s forced to live on the streets when someone breaks into her house and takes the money she saved for her rent?
Why is it that Amanda is on 3 different kinds of antidepressants because her boyfriend of three months broke up with her, but Caroline is standing at an open window, five stories up, looking down at the ground below, only fearing the pain of the fall, because she feels that everything she?s ever become close to has been ripped away or died.
Why is it that people who?ve never done a thing in their life are handed everything, every opportunity, but people who?ve suffered, been forced to go without, been left by the world to die slowly, are teased with a little strand of so called hope, dangled out of their reach because the offer is made only to people who don?t have money, but they can?t afford the financial footstool needed to reach it?
Tell me. Tell me why?
But don?t tell me, because I may be gone by the time you read this.
Tell Marie.
Tell Marie why she?s worth less than Jessica.
Tell Eliza.
Tell Eliza why she?s worth less than Brittany.
Tell Kimmy.
Tell Kimmy why she?s worth less than Mary-Sue.
Tell Caroline.
Tell Caroline why she?s worth less than Amanda.
Tell the girl down the road.
Tell the girl down the road why she is worth less as a person and as a human being than Paris Hilton.
Tell them what they?ve done wrong. Tell them what mistake they made, to not have a family who can afford to give them what they need. Tell Marie how Jessica earned so much, as she sits on her bed crying because she can?t afford to go to college. And tell Eliza what Brittany did to make herself worth so much more, as she writhes in pain on her bed. Tell Kimmy what choices Mary-Sue made to have so much, as she tells her mother ?its okay. I don?t want anything?, and goes to bed, tears in her eyes as she tries to hid from the monsters her grandmother?s teddy bear used to fend off. Tell Caroline why Amanda?s life was so hard, as the wind rushes past her, the hard ground below coming ever closer. Tell the girl how much Paris Hilton has done, as she?s dragged into an alley, and brutally beaten and raped. Tell her of how little she?s worth as the knife slides across her throat. Tell her every mistake she?s made to be worth so little as she bleeds to death alone in that cold, dirty alleyway.
And then, come find me.
And tell me.
If I?m still here.
If I?m even still alive.
?Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping, Hello, I'm still here, All that's left of yesterday . . .? ~Evanescence - Hello
Heather Peterson