Heyy, I took this off for a while but I always had it in word doc so, I guess I'll bring it back and see how it goes...
*******
Dear diary,
First off, I don't want to be talking to a diary so I'm going to give you a name. Well there is one person I would want to tell everything to. His name's Jacob. So I guess your name is now Jacob.
Dear Jacob,
I just got home from school and I'm sitting in my room. It's raining out so I guess it's some good weather. It is also starting to cool off outside which is also good because I will have an excuse on why I wear my jacket and jeans 24/7. I have decided to take you to school with me and every where else just in case something amazing happens. Or just so I'm not sitting there alone like usual. At least I will be writing instead of staring at things. It's 6 p.m. so dad should be pulling up in the drive way anytime soon. Drunk as usual probably. The bloody old rat can die in hell. Boy if he read this I would die from embarrassment and most likely him. I probably couldn't tell anyone at school this or any of my friends. Well if I had any for change. I have one friend. The counselor says he's my friend but I don't like the idea of a 40 year old man with a weird mustache and French model glasses as a friend. A few minutes ago, before I started writing to you, I just stood with in front of the mirror. I was staring up and down my torn up body. I was only wearing my boxer briefs though. Jacob, everyday I come home from school, take off my clothes down to my briefs, and stare at myself. Hoping, just slightest of hope, that there will be a difference in me. But there never is except for one. Promise not to tell? Ha, I know I'm going crazy. I guess this is what being depressed does to you. Scars. More of them. I stand there and hate every bit of me. My worthless brown hair. My worthless emerald eyes. My worthless nose. My worthless metal mouth. My worthless dimples. MY worthless stomach. My worthless thigh gap. My worthless existence. Well dad's home so I have to go.
Love, Chandler
Monday, 6:43 p.m.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Jacob, This is my suicide story
Genç KurguChandler is an outcast in his town. So he keeps a diary. Though he doesn't want it to be a diary so he names it Jacob. Chandler decides to write about his way down his path to the end of it. Read this story to see Chandler's rocky road.
