Monologues of the mind

What's wrong?

"What's wrong?"

What's wrong, what's wrong, what's. Wrong.
What's right?
What in my life is going right?
School? Well I'm failing all my classes because the only thing I can focus on is jumping out the second story window I daze off into.
I thought I was good at acting from all the years I've been acting "fine", good at English from all the years I've written depressing stories as an outlet. But no. I'm so bad at everything that "below-average" should be my middle name. That I should apologise to all the smart people who didn't get into the prestigious school I did because I sure as hell don't deserve it.
And as for popularity? The whole year hates me, people cringe walking past so much they avoid me. Whenever I walk down corridors, all I can hear are hurtful whispers, harmful rumours, but nothing I haven't heard before. Nothing I haven't said about myself before. But maybe they're right, maybe I am a fat, disgusting waste of a human.

My friends? Yeah they care about it, I know that.
But I'm just another pawn in their grand game of chess; that I could jump off a cliff in front of them, and all they would notice is a change in the wind.
I'm unnoticed.
Unloved.
Unwanted.
Just that sad girl in the corner who if you ignore long enough will go away because she's just making everyone else more depressed. I'm not important enough to anyone to deserve attention from them. Maybe that's for the best, maybe they deserve better friends, happier friends, friends who don't just bring the mood down constantly. Because that's all I am, a charity case. A person who subconsciously emotionally blackmails people into staying with them.

My family? I know they love me, but I know they're disappointed daily. I know they wish I was smarter, more productive, prettier, more normal. But what do they have? A pathetic excuse for a daughter. A stupid, selfish hideous human that is taking up space from those who need it.

My writing? Well the reviews speak for themselves. I would say I'm a washed up writer but I wasn't riding the tide high enough to qualify. I'm a wannabe, in a sea of somebodies.

Maybe all these people are right. Maybe I shouldn't be here.
I mean my friends have better friends, my family have each other, no ones gonna miss my writing, school can just recruit a new student.
No one would miss me, and if they did, why?
Maybe....just maybe I should take that jump.