Introduction.
If you look in the mirror and don't like what you see...
"Why do you even try anymore?" "Nobody likes you! Is that too hard to understand?" "Freak." "Go back to your homo-planet".
Insults. That's all she seems to get. She seems normal, walking down the streets, in her skinny jeans, black tee, baggy sweaters... But at school, she's everything but normal. Everyone sees her as an attention seeking whore who can't make up her mind on what she likes. Male, or female. Yes, she's bisexual. Everyone says, she doesn't want to come out as lesbian, so she's using Bi as her excuse. But she isn't.
"Go to hell!" Insult. "I'll meet you there..." Response. She mumbled this under her breath. "Excuse me bitch? What was that?" "I said, I'll meet you there, asshole." She said, standing proudly. That's the first time she ever got beaten up.
'Bruised hips, beaten lips, bloody thighs, don't despise...' This was written on the first page of her journal. She loved that she came up with this on her own. She knew she was special. And, at first, she enjoyed being individual. But the bullies ruined it all. The disgusting bullies, whose names burned her throat every time they were said. Names that made her eyes water, her teeth bite her bottom lip until it bled, trying to seem brave. Bravery was taken for foolery when you were sunk this low on the popular's list...
"I was okay for a month. I was happy..." 'Take it back... Take it back now. You've jinxed it.' she whispered to herself, while reading her journal entry from the previous Monday. Friday was when the pain decided to roll in. "Look at her just staring. She's such a worthless part of the team. Why is she even here?" His words stung her heart, and clang on to her already broken soul. She hates being reminded of her worth. She knew she was worth nothing, in her mind, those were the only thoughts traveling along, what seems to be a road of pure darkness and suicidal thoughts. Her mind seems as if it were made up of streets. Buildings made of blades, streets made of blood, people made of the harsh words people have told her, and herself? All she was, was a speck of dust in her mind. She usually only felt this way during her existential crises... but this was beginning to be a permanent feeling. This was starting to form something worse that depression. Something worse than just suicidal thoughts.
You can find out first hand what its like to be me.
'wake up' whispers. 'wake up...' 'hurry up and kill yourself.' 'tick tock... tick tock.' the whispers were growing stronger while she tried to dream of something happy. She finally awakened, taking the demand of the whispers. She sprang up from the bed as fast as she could, and ran to the kitchen cabinet... She swung the door open, and grabbed the Xanax... 'Finally, my time has come' she thought to herself, as she took down a handful of pills, and shoved them in her mouth, swallowing, accompanied by water...
*Whispers.* That's all she could hear. She didn't know where she was...
