A lost dream

My brother used to tell me there is only two kind of people in Randville, dead souls and dead bodies.In lost dreams of a quiet city I somehow found myself between caring and dying . The only place and home I could turn to was in the sorrow depths of my imagination.  It was a safe haven, a place I could turn to for help the only problem was....... there was no help offered. Memories drifted in and out of my mind. I remember the tears and cry's for help and how could I forget the slow sound of police sirens ringing in my ears? After the accident my world crumpled right in front of me my body as well as my soul was in pure pain. Dying seemed to be my only escape out of this dump of a city. Waking up and facing society everyday was torture not to mention reliving that night over and over again and al I could think of was his cry for help. Mom noticed my condition two weeks after that night was getting worse. She saw my wet pillow every morning, red circles around my eyes and the bloody razor in my bathroom. She soon put me on all kinds of depression pills and saw my medication as some kind of comfort for me and her so that she wouldn't feel like a bad mother and I would feel "happy". My friends were gone because dealing with an outsider was too much work. Going back to school was the worse experience of my life, the low whispers and rude comments were tossed to me like some dog in cage. I needed comfort but mom was either on her social events or busy chatting with her witty friends about some expensive, designer shoes and talking to my dad? I've never seen him in my entire life. We never talked about him and when I asked questions her only response would be " my love was never good enough for him".

Dear readers

This is my first time writing on wattpad. Please post some comments on the story before  I upload chapter 1