My name is Rachel Chamberlin.
I am blonde.
I am ugly.
There is nothing pretty about me.
I am currently 15 years old.
I attend a 4 story high school.
I hate the stairs.
I love to easily.
I hate too hard.
I am protective.
Especially of friends.
I am a bitch.
I have a total of 140 scars across my body that are self inflicted.
My suicide attempt count has now reached 20.
It was 3 in July.
I was abused from a young age emotionally, verbably, and physically.
Today, I am still abused.
Emotionally and verbally.
I don't blame others.
I blame myself.
I always do.
But I let old friends back in.
Because I never stop caring.
I am a fuck up.
I am Rachel.
I'm slowly dying.
Did you know that today was attempt number 20?
I see the logical side of things.
I see the emotional side of things.
I combine the two.
I reason.
I can help others, but not myself.
I enjoy helping.
But not helping myself.
I wallow in self pity.
I guess I should just "go fuck myself."
I am empty.
I've been acting for too long.
I handed my best friend a gun yesterday.
But he refused to shoot.
Wonder why.
I am a whore.
I've only been with one person.
I never went to them.
I wish he had shot.
I'm tired of acting.
I'm tired of being attacked.
What reason do we have anymore.
I am Rachel.
This is goodbye.
