If, if only I wasen't so different, I would have friends. If only I wasen't so ugly, people woulden't run away from me. If only I was a little smarter, they would stop picking on me. Maybe if I weren't so, different. If only i could be like everyone else. If only I wasen't so different.
These are the thought's that each and everyday drove me to depressien, to desperate messures. I wished for a rescue, a exit. I wished for the end. And as we all know, the end of a life, is death. There was one thing that drove me to do this, it was my thoughts. I woulden't blame my bullies. I woulden't blame my parents. I woulden't blame gad. Only me, myself. I was the one who dared to be born, anyway. The one who was different, whereever I went at school, or in the streets, I would meet the people, my bullies, they would stare at me, as if I were a outcast, a enemy.
With all this, nobody would blame me for hating this life, right?
And the way they acted around me, you would assume they would be happy if I died, right?
So, on the day of my birthday, the 28 november, I killed myself. But guess what?
They weren't happy now, either.
YOU ARE READING
If
FantasyThey kept calling me names, and sending my stares. They told me to die. So I did. But Guess what, even after that, they still wasen't happy. It's been one year since I drowned myself. One year since my body was found. One year since I disappointed...
