I'm not proud of myself. I truly hate me for who I am. I'm a mess, with feelings so high like a mountain. Okay, I told a lie right now. This is what I do daily, to make people cry. I don't care how much it hurts them; I just want it this way. People don't know how I feel; they see me like a horrible person. Maybe I am, but I try to heal my wounds. I live in my own house, with my own stories. I have some friends, but I don't call them that way. I usually say: my props, a short word for property. I met them, and I chose the ones with the hardest feelings to crush. I want to challenge myself, to have a goal in life. My name is Brandi, and I'm weird.
I want to tell you about something that happened in the past, what no one knows. I trust it to you, because I know you don't betray me. So, dear black book; let me write my story.
Dear black book,
It was on a Wednesday, when I walked in the forest. I was enjoying the weather, even though I hated the birds. They whistled all day long and I sometimes ran over them with my bike, with no feelings. I saw an old man sitting on a bench. I decided to sit next to him. He was just staring at the water, with no thoughts. I wished I was like him, not knowing what I was doing. He stood up, and walked away, right before a group came to me.
'You're Brandi, right?' asked a boy with big muscles.
'It depends on what you want.' He lifted me, and holds me above the water.
'I won't drop you, if you sing a song for me.' I started to sing, because I had my period and didn't want to be wet. When I finished, the boy laughed, and let me fall. I was sodden, dirty.
'I'm so sorry; let me give you a hand. I wasn't nice to you.' He reached out, and I thought he really felt awful for his action. I grabbed his hand, and he pushed me back. I felt on a rock, and my back was hurting. A young girl made pictures, and shared them. I was so angry. My mascara was drowning to my mouth, in one long, black line. I had fire in my eyes, and my fists were ready to punch. The boy saw my face, and laughed.
'She's mad guys, run away!' He did one step back, and he didn't realised I was planning to attack him. I ran to him, jumped on his back, and spit in his neck. The other members run away, screaming and yelling. He looked at me.
'You're nasty!'
'Here, let me wipe it off', I said. I wiped some blood of my arm, and smeared it in his neck.
'Oh god, you're crazy!'
'I'm sorry, I lied too.'
From that day, I don't trust anyone, and I won't let anyone trust me...
To be continued
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Misteri / ThrillerIt's hard to believe someone who's always lying. Not telling secrets, unless it's hurting people. Not telling the truth, until someone gets way to close. She's unsafe; no one is safely in her presence. Don't let her come in your way; she will use yo...