The Fear Of Falling (Larry Stylinson)

Prologue

Prologue

                  Well, hi. I'm Harry. Okay, I really shouldn't have wrote that; but I'm not going to cross it out or anything because that will make my journal look messy. I get really distracted when I see words crossed out. I always think, what the hell did they write that they obviously didn't want anyone else to see? Or why did they write it? I don't know, it just distracts me. I feel stupid for feeling like that, but whatever. I don't care. Fucking judge me; you won't be the first. So anyways, the only reason I'm writing in this damn thing is because my mum forced me to.

                      She told me if I won't talk I might as well write something. I didn't fight with her about it, why would I? Even if I don't want to write in the thing I won't make my mum mad. So here I sit; writing about nothing. I don't know what to write about honestly. I can start about why I don't talk then. Then I'll see where it goes from there. So, when I was 14 my dad died. How, you may wonder? Well, when he was driving to the fucking store for ice cream that my sister 'HAD' to have he got hit by a car. It was snowing so the roads were horrible, and no one knows how to fucking drive in the snow; so some car slid off the road and into my dads car.

                     But the car didn't kill him. He went to the hospital and was able to go home a week later. After 2 days of being home, he died. He was working around the house, trying to fix something and he cut his hand on a saw. I don't even know how, but he did. He bled to death. When he died my family when crazy. They didn't know what to do with themselves. My sister started to do drugs and ended up in rehab. My mum; well, this is when I stopped talking. She was blamed for killing my dad. She was home the day he died so they thought she did it. So the police kept asking me questions. I got tired of answering them and I just stopped talking. It started with I stopped talking to them, then to my friends and last; my mum.

                  So sense I was 14 I haven't talked; ever. I don't care. The police finally gave up on the case and let my mum go. She thought I would talk after it was all over but she was sadly wrong. I feel bad for not talking to her, but what do you want me to do? It's my choice not to talk and she accepts it. Now I'm 17 and I get made fun of at school for not talking. I got used to it so there's not much I can say about that. So present time, I gave up on everything and everyone.

                     I'm just trying to finish high school so I can go to college. That's pretty much all I'm looking forward to; is going to college. I know it's a while away but whatever. I can't wait to get away from this fucked up town I sadly call home. Well, I'm going to stop writing now. I think I rambled on a lot already. Till next time -H xx