Take Me With You

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

We don't choose to hate someone. We just do. Its in the human nature to feel competitive or judgmental.

If I had the choice, I would have gotten rid of my so called "friends" years ago. This included about 5 particular individuals, that I despised in indescribable ways.

Like the feeling of a warm fire when you stand to close, and it starts to itch your skin.

But, in such a desperate time in your life to try and fit in, be popular, you don't always have a choice but to live your life.

Everyday, the same routine, until something, something truly amazing grows slowly into your boring life, like a plant put directly in the sun.

It roots its way into your brain, and you begin to feel used to the situation.

Not all plants survive. Some plants aren't as lucky as others, and fear that one day, their beautiful color might fade, and they will be just as important as a piece of garbage thrown into a trashcan in the subway.

In the sense that plants could talk, and had feelings, would they feel like me?

Feel that every time they tried, they were rejected by nature? By human nature?

You can't always escape the natural gravitational pull towards what is right, compared to what you think is right.

If you force yourself, you break. Shatter into tiny pieces, unable to be contained and put together. Glue doesn't help.

It's too artificial, too preserved.

You need something containing real-ness. But what would you consider real these days?

Fake eyelashes, bad attitudes, and money.

At least thats what society thinks.

If your not perfect, your not accepted. Simple fact of life. If you don't have a stick thin body, then your fat. If your thin, they think your anorexic.

It's all public opinions.

What people don't understand is that we judge society for being a terrible harsh group of people, but look who is part of the club.

Everyone.

WE are judging ourselves for mistakes we don't want to admit to.

For causing others just like us emotional and physical pain.

I on the other hand, to some, was a mistaken person. Others just don't get me like I get me.

Sometimes to understand the person completely, you really have to be in their shoes and struggle along side with the heartbreak, the sadness, and everything in-between.

Nothing thats worth fighting for is handed to you on a silver platter. You have to work towards it, strive, and live for it.

This is the perfect life for me, because teens like me have no social life.

We are alone on our laptops, sat on our comfortable single beds with music playing loudly through our headphones to block out the world around us.

Friends? That is a sour topic. Bad grisly chocolate to my sweetener. An uncomfortable subject, discussed by few, loathed by many.

My peers were somewhat like the usual. Followers. Of the most popular.

That was before the incident. I guess I was normal to them, but now, I wouldn't be surprised if they hated my guts.

I would even hate my guts.

Being told you did something, hen you didn't is the worst feeling in the world.

There is a perfectly reasonable explanation though.

But first my name is Lee Margret Withers. Elizabeth is my real name, but I think it's too proper for my personality.

Eliza is what my dad calls me when I'm in trouble, and Liz is what my mom used to call me along with my grandparents.

With 4 different names, it sometimes can get a little confusing in our household.

I am 14 years old, and live with my dad, and my grandma.

My mom died 1 year ago today. I thought this would be an appropriate time to pour my feelings out.

Besides, it really doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does.

My living space is about the size of a cookie cutter subdivision all american family house, and I have a small room in the apartment.

The only good thing about my room that I enjoy is it is personal. No one comes in my room.

I just think they're scared to. My dad is the only one who I communicate with outside of school. We do everything together. And isn't that loads of fun.

It used to be my mom, dad, and I. My mom was the only person to talk to. About my problems, about life, and school.

But my dad, had no clue how to deal with a hormonal indecisive teenage girl.

It took him awhile to get used to the situation, after loosing my mom in such a tragic way, and trying to go to work and support my grandma and I.

Furthermore, my room discusses most of my life with its walls, colors, and pictures. Its all just, me.

And its the only perfect thing in my life.

Through all of the tough times in the past year, I still have that little area where I can just leave my terrible life and be submersed by everything I love the most.

Except maybe by old dog, Yumi, the little book I used to keep of all my memories, and my mom. So, most of it at least.

When I occasionally do come out of my room, its to eat. Food can get your mind off of anything. Fried chicken and potatoes (the only starch I eat anymore) is my favorite combination of everything deliciously fattening.

But come on, who would disagree when I say that food is one of the things in life that make me happy?

Yes, that means there IS food somewhere in my room, probably under my cluttered bed.

So maybe this little section of my life is just a chapter in my story, but what I want to know is when the problem will find the solution?

Because so far, I am in a big open field will no direction to head in.

To sum up so far, life sucks. You can't change it, people will judge, food will make you happy, and you need to find your own solutions.

My problem is I don't know where to start.

Anymore my brain feels like a big thunder cloud that hasn't yet cleared up in the sky, and is still striking lightening every once in a while.

I am alone, and push people away for their own good. Not for me, but for them.

And after thinking up such a large story in that cloudy brain of mine, what about the characters? The characters are the backbone, the spinal cord.

They hold the story together. They are slowly introduced and the main character either hates them, or adores them.

The love story, the evil villain, and the caring family. I'm missing all of those.

So basically, I have no backbone.

I am weak.

And weakness is my biggest enemy. Therefore, I am my biggest enemy.