Property of Society

Prolouge

           I feel as if I'm trying to make everyone happy, everyone but myself. Maybe it's because I'm selfless, maybe it's because I feel I'm not worthy of happiness. Either way, it hurts. God it hurts so bad. The pressure to be perfect is the root of our own destruction. We're told we have to be pretty to be wanted. But the moment we alter our looks to meet expectations, were shot down. "You wear too much makeup," they tell us. "This is why we have trust issue," we're told. So we try to pretend it doesn't bother us, that we are confident in who we are. But we're not. And if maybe everyone loved one's self for who they were, the world would be a happier place. But we can't escape it. We can't escape the pressure.
           My name's Emma Joules. At one glance I'm a sweet, loving girl with beautiful features. But if you look deeper, that's not the case. I've been depressed since I was thirteen. I was too young to be going through that. I hoped it was hormonal, that the anxiety I felt was just a normal phase. But it wasn't. It took me a while to tell my mom about it, and it took me even longer to tell my dad. My mom said it was probably genetic, she had gone through the same. So I went to therapy. I was scared beyond belief. It took me almost a year to open up to my mom, so how was I supposed to open up to a complete stranger? Later I'd learn going to therapy was the best decision I ever made.