Seconds of sadness

Chapter 3: the verge of a breakdown

Let's be honest. There are no words to describe how mean Stacey was to me. But I'll try, for all of our sake. Stacey and I started as best friends, she was hot and a real boy magnet. Boys everyday would show up at her house asking for some and we were 13. She started charging people to make out with her, and she used me to start it. She said "guys 20 bucks for a make out, ask ruby she did it l and said she loved it." And everyone started calling me a lesbo and retarted. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, but they were. Everyday people came up to me saying "hey, have you been to caseys kissing booth yet? You'd really enjoy it. She'll add tongue just for you". Then for the rest of the year, I was named lesbian wanna-be. Stacey didn't just start that, she continued it and stopped it and then started it back up a year later. One of the worst thing she did was when I told her who I like, and then went and found away to actually fuck him. Yep, at age 14 losing her virginity to a guy she didn't even like so she could piss me off. That was really low Stacey. But for some reason everytime she did something worse, she would apologize and I'd accept it and stay friends with her.

And now to the worse thing, trying to actually kill me. Socially and actually. She told the whole school I fucked my dad for 20 dollars and then told everyone I still wetted the bed. That wasn't anything compared to when she showed everyone what my mums car looked like, and got them all the piss in it. So one day me and my mum went to the mall and came back to find our car filled of piss with a sign saying "watch your back, ruby". My mum thought it was funny and said "wow you're friends are the best!" I came to school the next day with a new nickname. Pissing Polly. Thanks again Stacey. What a great YEAR it was for me, huh? But maybe the satisfactory of revenge was all I wanted. Yes, it was me who poured coffee all over your biology homework. Yes, it was me who poisoned your cafeteria food with bleach. Yes, it was me who put dog shit on your pillow before you went to sleep. Thank you for everything Stacey but here's one question I need to ask you. Why? Why was it so important to torture me? And who in gods name would do that to a person? Don't. I can answer that, you would.

Last question. Can it be over please? I Ask myself everyday this, but today it was worse. Much worse. I can't think, I can't talk and I realized that I told my worst enemy something they shouldn't know. I don't know how I did that. I don't know why I'm on this earth either. Two questions that will never be answered. Everyday I come and write "no one understands" but there are people who hate their life's more than I do. Maybe I should've realized before that life isn't easy. So I decided to find hat out he hard way by living it and feeling it. Maybe I felt it too much. My mum always says it's not my fault for tony dying. But part of me says it was completely my fault, the day I told him he was dick for not coming or when I accidentally pushed him into the rapid river when I was too drunk to think. My whole life revolves around this pain I'm feeling inside. I've never asked myself: is that good or bad or is it both? But we all know, there's at least one person who loves you. Who's that for me? Is it sam or is it Alex? Oh yeah I forgot to tell you about them, they're my only loves, they only people I've ever really got to know properly. No ones actually really got to know me, but why should I let anyone at that back-stabbing, slut calling and hell feeling school know who I really am? Exactly I shouldnt tell them I I hate my life but I don't kill myself that's for pussies. I just cut my wrists and forget about it. It's easier to run away from your problems. But who said I was doing it the easier way? Tell me, who said I was a slut, who said I was stupid, who said I was a fuckgirl and a bitch? I beg your regret now. You killed me. You fucking killed me. This is not just your faults it's mine too. Something not everyone could admit. I'm it blaming my messed up life on a bunch of people who helped me do what I know I'll do soon. I'm only 12 and I'm depressed and fucked up so bad. I need help but I don't want it. I don't deserve it and I don't need it as much as you do. You now who you are you bastard. You're a fucking dickhead who talked behind my back thinking no one would find out what you did. Too late.