She hopped up onto my bed and seated herself directly in front of me in plain sight. Her light hazel eyes just as familiar to me as the day she was born. Her short, dark hair bobbing up and down, freshly indented from the elastic that now lay dangling around her wrist. “Before I begin this interview, I need to make you aware of the type of questions I will be asking.” I lifted my eyes from the paper for a quick moment, only to watch her bright, white smile shift into a tight, troubled line. She knew.

Growing up together, Ashley had always been more out going than me. She always appeared so sure of herself and her actions, but on the inside lived a feeling that was completely opposite of the person she portrayed. She had always been the curvier one of the bunch, a small upper half with a rounder bottom to make up for it. Her beauty was something of a magazine. She had the body boys adored and the figure girls envied, with a natural beauty that struck her like Aphrodite. On the other hand, Ashley felt her body was a curse and due to her self-consciousness, she adapted loner-like qualities. “I try not to rely on others a lot,” she said, sitting upright with her face pointed towards the sheets of my bed and her arms wrapped tight around her legs. The fact that she couldn’t even look me while I spoke to her stung like an arrow to the chest; I knew how she felt. It wasn’t her fault that she had these qualities, it was something she developed over time, and something past events kept in concrete.

“There were these two important figures in my life, one being my boyfriend at the time, David, and a girl who was a close friend. After I placed my trust in their hands, they made me regret it in the long run. I felt as though I could not trust people like that again,” and she didn’t. Since the third grade, bullying had taken over Ashley’s life, following her every step of the way, even through high school. There were days when she would come home from school, run up to her room and slam the door. Most nights she wouldn’t even come down to eat; she would just sit upstairs in her room crying, wondering what she had been doing wrong. Those who bullied her came up with numerous names referring to her weight and, over time, it aggressively worsened. They would call her names such as “Elefun the Elephant” and “Kim Kardashian” due to the fact that she had a big butt. Eventually, it spread to social media, where everyone would take turns making statuses about her. One day, a girl Ashley knew fairly well created a page about her. “I remember vividly seeing an image of bleach on the page, as though they were telling me to go kill myself.”

During her time of depression, she felt as though she was trying to swim, but everyone was just pushing her to the bottom. The words and things people said to intentionally hurt her were what triggered these emotions inside of her. It was upsetting to know that people were actually trying to hurt her for absolutely no valid reason. The outer rims of her eyes turned bright pink, signaling that tears were quickly approaching, and her eyes now fixed on the lights that were strewn across the window frame. There were times where she would stand there in front of the bathroom mirror, twisting and turning; pointing out the fresh cuts that stained her light olive skin. She would wear baggy clothing a lot, especially sweatshirts that soon became her favorite apparel. They would be laying in her drawers and hanging around in her closet. “No one asked me if I was okay, and even though they had no idea what I was doing to myself, it pushed me to the edge of feeling number and invisible.”

Not too long after everything started to wind down, Ashley met her first actual boyfriend. She was 14 and had nothing but peaceful thoughts in her mind. Her first impression made him appear nice, protective, and faithful, but later on she found out her thoughts had been mistaken. He was controlling and the relationship itself was unsettling. She blamed herself for the way he would act and lash out. She blamed herself so much she began to believe that she had been the issue and pushed herself to change in order to be enough for him. Many girls were involved in their relationship and it crushed her to be so curious as to who these girls were. I greatly despised how she stuck around after the twentieth time he cheated. The girls he was with would lash out at her simply for the fact that she was with him, but there had been one girl in particular that made the relationship even harder for Ashley to handle. “The main girl he had been messing around with threatened to have me jumped and told me to try to kill myself again. I did not think it was remotely possible to feel lower than I had felt before."

At first, Ashley found comfort in cutting again, looking to a razor or sharp object for every possibility of relief. Later down the road, however, she realized it was not her who was in the wrong, but those she surrounded herself with. She fought to find comfort in me, due to the fact I had also been through a lot in my life. I would attend sessions to see a therapist every few weeks and, soon enough, Ashley began to follow. She lifted her head and starred into my eyes with her child-like gaze. “Your actions motivated me to do the same and I found myself not that long after talking to someone about my issues that had occurred in my life from past to present." This time she didn’t look down at the paisley design on my comforter or stare off at the lights. This time she starred into my eyes with an empathetic grin.

Not too long after she had ended her relationship with David, he would constantly try to mess up any connection Ashley wished to have with another boy. He would tell other guys that they were just “going through a hard time” and that they were still happily together. He had even told her that if he couldn’t be with her nobody would, and if it came to that point, he would kill them both. The issue grew to a terrifying extent, one where a restraining order quickly became the only option. Although he could have respectfully accepted the restraining order without struggle, he chose to fight the issue in court. During the process, it became clear that he had not only harassed Ashley, but had been borderline stalking her as well. Fortunately enough, the restraining order had been set in stone and Ashley was finally free to move on. Words couldn’t even describe the joy I felt that day, tears streaming down my face as I held my brother on the left of me. I felt as though I had been a mother, proud to see her daughter grow.

Today, Ashley is doing better than ever and lives a happy, healthy life. Although she does have moments where she thinks back on all of the things that happened to her, she will never allow them to take hold of her again. In order to stay in this place, she focuses primarily on playing her ukulele and pursuing her art work. “It’s a way for me to release my emotions in a positive, nonverbal way. It gives me a sense of comfort and happiness in the life I live now.” Today, she is stronger. Today, she is wiser. Today, from here on out, my sister is a survivor.