They Don't Know About Us

Chapter 1 :)

Before you start: 

Please please please do not steal my idea or post mean comments. I'm sorry if I offend anyone in making this. I have never had a family member commit suicide or try and I can only try to begin to understand the pain and difficulty it is to live feeling bad. Remember you are pretty.  

Smart. 

Beautiful. 

Gifted. 

No matter what anyone may tell you you are you and that makes you unique. And flawed in so many ways. But know that god loves you and that even when it seems like everything is crashing down or that no one is there for you. Remember that when you're born into this world-clean, crisp, innocent-you're crying tells the doctors you're alive.  

You're a living person. 

And you have so much to offer the world.  

Please feel free to comment, vote, share-whatever! But no copying please :)

Chapter 1

Suicide. It's not one of those everyday kind of terms but you'd be surprised how it comes up in those weird times you'd never expect. Like health. Today when we had to watch our standardize video on bullying. Like a funeral. 

Of a little boy who got stuck in the wrong place. My eyes flicker closed for a minute and a wave of images flashes relentlessly against the lids until I give in and open them again. 

Like with one direction. And their idiotic campaign against it all. 

Don't get me wrong me, I'm not one of those bitchy cheerleaders who sees fun lingering in every crevice of someone's flaws. And I'm definitely not someone who thinks bullying is ok because it's not. At all. So why is it I'm totally against this-this movement for help?

'Cause it's stupid. Dumb. America's-heck one of the world's top bands-promoting a stop of bullying program. That should be good-great even right? Think of all the people they could change? All the pain the could prevent? 

My fingers instinctively press against my temples and begin to rub in small circles, as if my small hands could somehow wipe away all the pain encased in my head. As if this little motion could take it all away.

Well it's not gonna happen because believe it or not, big people can't stop what happens to the little ones when they turn there back. They can only believe in their own stupidity, thinking they can just change the world with a snap of their fingers. And they can and I'd give anything to have that power and use it for good but it's not like that.

They control all the teenage girls out there, heck all girls in general I guess, but in certain things like how much money are mommy and daddy going to spend or tickets. Or how much of a slut should I dress so guys like that  notice me.

I click off the tv and throw the remote down on the coach with a thud, my body alert. I shouldn't be angry like this. It's just a commercial and yet look at me, I'm a wreck. Don't overreact, Courtney. I try to remind myself to breath but it just makes it worse. And then I'm yelling at myself, not literally, but my heads being stretched in so many directions. 

Of course I should be upset. He was my brother. My twin. My other half. The smartest person I'll ever meet. And yet still somehow the freak in the back of class.

I cringe at my own abusiveness before a cold dread takes its place. It wasn't me who did this to him. 

It wasn't my mom. 

He couldn't have even brought this upon himself. No matter what some of those awful human beings say, it was people. Society.

The nasty monsters that call themselves teenagers and the ugly adults who turn a blind eye to the pain and suffering of kids. 

"Something wrong honey?" The voice comes from behind me, startling me out of my trance. I don't bother turning to her, I would just be letting her read every though off my flushed face. 

"No-why?" I ask, not letting the lie creep into my words. I want to laugh at the attempt, of course something's wrong and of course she can tell.

"You just seemed upset..." Meredith's voice trails off. I know she's leaning against the wall. I don't even have to look to be sure. That's how well my mom and I know eachother. And yet I still wish it was different every single day. We weren't always like this. The strike of tragedy can only bring people this close. 

"There's nothing to be upset about." My voice is flat and indecipherable as I grab my book off the end table. I want to get out before she has a break down. Before we both have a break down.  

I want to yell. To scream and shout. To tell her to leave alone. Because that is what I do. I'm a pusher I push and push and push. But not in that try hard way it's probably sounding and not in that way the teacher is in Mean Girls which that probably just reminded you of.

It that awful flight way that makes me yearn to leave this place. This family. For just a minute or a second or forever I don't know. But then the guilt over whelms me and brings me back to my mother and my father and to all the people who loved him too.

Because the farther I push them away the farther I try to run, the farther away I am from him. And it makes me question myself-is it better to lose all the memories and let the pain go with them? Or to remember and be torn apart every time you do.

OKkk so head's up I know this chapter is very short and not that good but my writing has come veryyy far from this first chapter and I can promise you it get's better.

Hope you take my word on ittt! haha :) 

Vote, comment, read on, or just simply have a bowl of triple fudge brownie icecream, because regret is no fun and CHOCOLATE IS THE BEST THING EVER INVENTED.

Well I believe that's all for noww.

Xx Oliviaa 

********P.S. You should totally you check out my other book titled I Can't!*******