Today was bad, first the awards for 8th grade. I didn't get anything, obviously. And people also got the yearbooks that they ordered. And this year is the only year that I ever wanted the yearbook. But if I knew how many people would actually turn to look at me like I'm human, than I would have asked if I could get one. Even though they wouldn't waist a penny on me, it would be worth the try at least. Then after all that happened in the hallway, and I'm not lying, everyone shoved me and called me random crap. Like "worthless b**ch" and "useless s**t head" and many more things. In every class someone called me a worthless s**t. And I already know I'm one. I've never done anything right, other than being a target to let people do what they want to do, and being well a crybaby. I've cried myself to sleep for the past three years. Nearly every night. And by nearly I mean for every night that I didn't cry myself to sleep I was awake all night. Like for the past three days I hadn't got any sleep. You all will say that my organs will shut down without sleep, and eventually die. But do I care? No. I don't care. I stopped caring a long time ago. Besides people don't just call me random crap, they also tell me to kill myself. Every passing period this happens, except today during the last passing period. Why? Well I thinks it's because of the person I was walking with. Makynzi, sorry if I spelled it wrong, was the person that I was walking with. I guess they saw her and fled, but I know that tomorrow it will get worse. Everyday gets worse. And there is no avoiding them. Crying is what I'm good at. Other than being a target, and a failure. I gave up on my project for Ms. Ellis's class. First someone got into my account and deleted it, then the flashdrive that I had secretly put my project on disappeared, most likely stolen. And I didn't go on the computer for the weekend. I gave up, because I know that no matter what I do it will just get worse and worse. So I accept my horrible grade. I don't care. I'm probably just going to kill myself anyway. And this is going to be the only record of my being alive. Even though this account is most likely going to be deleted after I die. No one would miss me. Why would anyone? No one would ever think that they could've helped me through this terrible time, this lonely. I want to go away, but I know I won't have the courage too. So I guess I won't sleep. It will perfect. I'd be dying and no one would care, or notice. No one notices me anyway. They wouldn'teven know I'm gone. Everyone only ever cared for themselves, except if helping someone else gets them money. Or anything in return. Let's say your hanging off a cliff. And the only person that is nearby wants $1,000,000 from you if they do help. They only care for money. Never about the other person's well-being.
.
.
.
Please. I don't want to be alone anymore. Please. I need a friend. I need someone to care. Someone... that I can count on... this is false hope isn't it? No one help. They never have. Death is the
Only
Way
Out
YOU ARE READING
The Life of Me pt.1
Non-FictionThis is my life, and the pain that comes with it. My story, and the loneliness that rides on it. This is the other side of StolenGiant, and there isn't a way back from it. So if you want to hear on how sucky my life is, read it. I honestly don't car...
