Oh Ophelia

Some days, you just have the need to reminisce on your life as a bright young child from age seven to age ten, going through the hardships of being in primary school. You remember how the grass looked greener, the birds chirped nicer, and the sun shined brighter. You remember all of your phases, from liking dolls to crushing on a weird boy band. You thought about the simple conversations you had with your friends, arguing about things that are meaningless now, but were so intense and important back then. That is, of course, if you had a normal, average childhood. This was not the case with Ophelia. Ophelia questioned her mortality at the ripe age of six years old. This caused intense anxiety, which later caused bladder problems and public humiliation. That's only the beginning of first grade.

Ophelia was delusional throughout her childhood. Unlike the other kids, Ophelia had bright red hair, the same color as a ripe cherry in May. She had a habit of eating her hair when she was five years old. Perhaps it was her crippling anxiety, perhaps she just thought she was eating candy. Ophelia also had lime green skin that she just loved to slice because whenever she cut into it, it was a deep shade of juicy red, similar to her curly locks. Ophelia thought that if she could cut a square in her leg, she could take out a cube, like a watermelon, only to find out she was wrong, very wrong. As a child, she rarely felt beautiful. She was truly gorgeous but then again, one of her ears was bigger than the other, one of her eyes was darker than the other, her feet were too big, her lips were always chapped, her stomach was always bloated, and her teeth were always yellow. 

Her mind, her wonderful, complex, insane mind was what made Ophelia differ from the rest. Ophelia grew up to be described as "too mature". Whenever Ophelia said something philosophical, her peers labeled her as insane. She was also outcasted a lot. Not for her bright green skin, or her cherry-red hair. Not for her big feet, or ears, or teeth. She was alienated because of her thoughts. Her silly little thoughts were too deep for a child. She related to old people. The kids started calling her "grandma". For a solid amount of years, she couldn't even remember her childhood. Not a good look for a child, but what do I know, I'm not a child psychologist, I'm just a mere writer, who writes about a girl named Ophelia. Her real name isn't Ophelia. She gave herself the name Ophelia after a strong and beautiful woman from her favorite manga series. Ophelia hated her real name ever since she was a child. Now she uses a nickname that her friends butcher so she hates that as well. Ophelia doesn't like to be perceived. She gets used to changes pretty quickly. She's always been a fast-paced being, but somehow the slowest of the bunch. She's the smartest girl I know, yet she was practically illiterate when it came to social situations, basically making a fool out of herself everywhere she went. She thrives in peace, but chaos seems to follow wherever she goes. 

The girl is now a teen, and she usually hallucinates small purple entities or she thinks someone is calling out to her. Silly girl. She knows that nobody will ever call out to her. Why would they? I hope she gets that checked out someday. Ophelia prays to Apollo, son of Zeus and Leto. She finds comfort in Him as a God and as an archetype. Yet her prayers can't seem to reach that high, because if they did, maybe, just maybe her life wouldn't be such a mess. 

Oh, dear Ophelia

Oh, what have you done?

What did you do to yourself, Ophelia?

What have you become?

From a florid young girl,

to a monster, from the depths of hell,

Ophelia found the courage

to emerge from her shell.

Oh my dear Ophelia,

how I hate you Ophelia,

Ophelia, you ruined me. 

Oh, my dear Ophelia,

now you live within me.

Ophelia, you conjoined my soul with yours,

and that's your biggest crime. 

Tell me, my pretty girl,

Why did you do it?

I wonder, but I don't want to know.

Oh, my pretty Ophelia.

I hate your beauty, Ophelia,

but you understand me so well,

no one does it like you.

I want to be you, Ophelia.

Oh, my gorgeous girl Ophelia.

I love you Ophelia.

Author's note: This short story and poem is about my alter ego, Ophelia. In the story I wanted to briefly describe the entirety of my own childhood, using the character Ophelia. The poem is an ode to my alter ego (basically myself) and it describes the love-hate relationship that I have with myself.