Dedicated to , my new editor.
DyingToShoutOut
I thank you, anyone who reads this story thanks you.
Check her work out.
Special chapter. – Yes, yes. I know, you adore me.
You don't have to read all this, but read what is directly under this.
**This’ll pretty much tell you where McKenz is at while she’s writing.
So be excited for that.
If you don’t want to know, and want to wait till the very end to find out,
Don’t read this.**
On top of that, I’m trying to type without the use of extra spaces.
It. Is. So. Hard.
So, I might have a few extra spaces, but I’m gonna try not to, alright?
I’ve got a new editor, obviously.
:D
So she’ll be editing the previous chapters, and with her editing and the help of mine, all the spaces will be gone. Eventually.
Don’t get your hopes up, folks.
New book cover! It’s pretty damn sexy, right?
And there’s another book banner over thurrr. --->
Check that shit.
And, I’m part of a new co-written book. It’s not started yet, but as I’m writing this, we’re planning everything out.
It’s gonna be a horror/historical fiction type of thing.
Keep posted on that, ‘cause I guarantee it’ll be fucking awesome. (;
I’m in a pretty freaking awesome mood right now. (:
I just feel like smiling.
But every time I do, Ryan, (Yeah, that’s my actual brother’s name) looks at me and shakes his head.
IT’S NOT THAT WEIRD TO SMILE AT YOUR COMPUTER, RIGHT?
I’m done.
Read on, bitches!
Dearest Asshole- whom is forcing me to write this,
These are my thoughts, so why don’t you just accept it.
Do you know what the death instinct is?
It means to have an unconsious urge to die.
I have the death instinct .
Have you ever thought much about dying?
I’m sure it’s passed through your head a few times, Doc.
So, what do you do, when the only option you see is death?
What do you do when you think about your future and see nothing?
See a dark, hollow, murky, void?
Do you just off with yourself, and get it over with?
Or do you live on in pain, knowing your life won’t go anywhere?
I unfortunately didn’t kill myself.
That’s right, you heard me.
Un-fucking-fortunately.
My life would be over right now, and I wouldn’t be stuck in this horrible place, with nothing to my name but a notebook and a pencil. – Don’t even get me started on the fact that you won’t even give me a pen!
I think that sounds so much better.
So much easier.
Than this, this fucking bullshit excuse of a life I’m currently living.
WHO THE FUCK CARES IF I’M FUCKING MENTAL?
Let me out.
Just let me live my life, please.
This notebook isn’t doing anything for me, honestly.
Well, it’s pissing me off.
Or maybe that’s just you, Doc. You know how much I hate you.
If you just let me out of here,
I’ll never bother you again.
You’ll never hear a word about me.
Ever. Again.
Well, you might here one thing about me.
And that’d be in the Sunday Paper, with a big heading that says Obituary.
Do you know what my Obituary would say?
On (insert date here), McKenzie Marie Richards killed her useless self.
No one really cares, so there will be no funeral.
Her family doesn’t give a fuck, so don’t even bother send them your condolences.
Not that you give a fuck either.
Rest in hell, McKenzie.
You will not be missed.
So why don’t you do me a favor.
Yourself a favor.
The fucking world a favor.
And just sign your name on that release slip, so I can get out of here and move on with my life.
By ending it.
YOU ARE READING
She Doesn't Care . (Being Edited)
General FictionFollow the story of a girl named McKenzie during her high school experience, re-told years later, when she’s asked to explain her adolescence. McKenzie wasn’t such an ‘average’ teenager, even in her own generations’ eyes. She was the type of gi...
