I don't know what happened to my computer with my journal on it. I guess it's wherever I was staying in Canada. I wish I knew why I was there, or where I was staying, or even how I got there.
It's like most of my memories from this year are gone. I don't know what happened.
Well I do know. Kinda.
I know it was livi's dad had something to do with it.
The pain and fear of abandonment was overwhelming. I don't know what triggered it. But it was bad. So bad that I had a kitchen knife. I don't know where it came from, the handle was silver, and my knives have yellow handles.
I was sitting there, bleeding, hoping I would die and all the pain would be over, when I saw him. All the pain got a billion times worse. I couldn't bare it anymore. It was like my brain was going to slow and as if all the pain in the universe just jumped into my body. All this hurt and I didn't even know what for. Why am I hurting so bad. I feel that way for what felt like forever, but I don't know how long it actually was. Not forever I guess.
Being dead was a relief from that pain.
A relief from knowing I have no one and nothing.
I have no friends.
I have no family.
I have no dance.
No boat.
Nothing.
Then she showed up.
Gosh I hate her.
I hate her with every inch of my being.
She showed up and dragged me back here.
Back to my pain
Back to my misery.
Back to nothing.
I don't even have my stuff.
Most of my clothes are gone.
All my ballet stuff is gone.
No pillow. No blanket.
95% of the stuff that is in my room is someone else's. And no one will tell me who. Someone has to know something. Someone was living in my room.
Somehow Silas doesn't even know and he freaking lives here.
The pain is overwhelming.
Imagine a blue whale.
They weigh 300,000 pounds.
Now imagine that whale laying on your chest.
That's already enough to kill someone.
Then every minute, another whale is on top of you.
And now that 600,000 pounds.
And then another and another and another and another and another.
And now theres like a thousand whales on me.
And in case you're keeping up with the math, that's about 300,000,000 pounds. Three hundred million pounds. Just on my chest. Then 300,300,000 then 300,600,000 then 300,900,000 then 301,200,000 you get the point. And at this rate I don't know what will kill me. But I have a feeling the pressure won't.
My heart is broken and I don't know why. I thought my life was bad before, but it turns out that I didn't know what bad was.
Nobody even care that my stuff is gone.
Nobody cares someone was living in my room.
Nobody cares about the fact that my life is worse than it was.
Nobody cares about anybody except themselves.
