I'm a loser.
They say I'm a loser,and I'm alright with that I guess.
My dad says worst at home so its a nice change.
Where I live schools just like yours but with no rules. Its dog eat dog. Be eaten or eat. You can't be nice and if you are then you're walked all over like old concrete until you crack deep seeded hate like a thick root uplifting your solid concrete walls, that keep away the hate. Soon enough you're just like the rest. Ruthless and crazy.
Me you ask? I'm not like them of coarse no one wants to believed there a fucked up person. But I'm truly not. I feel...fear of what our graduating class will look like. When we come back for a high school reunion in ten years how many will be dead or to stupid because of drugs to know what's going on. My assumption? About half the class will be dead and the other half will be druggies.
I mean they're already half way there.
School is hell but home is worst. When I was ten my mom died right in front of me. I was just like her and when my dads not drunk or high he tells me how pretty I am and how much I look like her. She was short, like me with burnt brown hair and pearly blue eyes that shined even in the dark. I've got all of that but he still hates me. Still blames me for her murder.
Flashback
Mom and I were having a normal day. It was Sunday. We had gotten home from church an hour before and were sitting alone in the living room still in our dresses, watching Spongebob Squarepants.
"Mommy I'll be right back I have to pee" she just laughed at my bluntness and nodded.
"Can you pause Spongebob?" She nodded and I ran to the bathroom. I hadn't been in there for to long before I could here a loud bang. I opened the door and heard mommy screaming. I ran out and hid behind the kitchen counter and watched mommy say things to a man with a gun. He cocked it back and pointed it at her head.
Bang
Mommy dropped to the floor with a thud the life draining from her eyes as she looked to me.
