•The Way I Hate Myself•

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A/N: This story will be in Frank's POV unless stated. It will also be written like a journal sort of.

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I've always said to people that they don't know hate. They don't know hate truly until they've used their selves so much that the only way out was to take their life. I know hate worse than most people do. Imagine living a life where you're always having to put a fake smile on. I don't know my biological parents. They left me soon after I was born. They never loved me. I've been bullied since I could walk. My "parents" that I live with make it a point that I always know that none of my biological family even loved me and that my friends don't care about me. I've believed them my entire my life. Why? Because what they say is true. My actual family doesn't love me. None of my friends truly care about me. I should probably give up on life. Nobody understand the way I hate myself so I just end it all. Everybody would be happy if I did. But the only reason why is because of a boy. A boy that hates me. A boy that has it all. A boy named Gerard Way.

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