The 110 Day Countdown

Dear diary,

Living life as a teen sucks. I want so badly for people to stop saying, "Oh how cute you are, I can't wait till you blossom!" I'm trying to be me now. Why can't I just be treated as so. When all my desires get molded into a ball and pushed deeper under my skin to the deepest realm of santity I know I reached my low. The sad part is, I force myself not to care anymore. They don't care what feelings your moral compass is leading you to be when your older. Your just a pretty face. It hurts...

Lei closes the book and pushes her cheek against the cold February window. She slowly pushes more and more to get her body focused on the feeling. She chooses other nerve setting feelings over cutting. Something her therapist Jamie suggested. Pulling her leather jacket on farther until the zipper reached her small chin. Lei opens hatchet and steps out into the brisk Michigan air. The roof is her place. Empty diet coke cans and full books line the corner of the oversized brick chimney, she was to lazy to pick them up from other trips. Taking one big gust of air Lei allows her lungs to take flight like a bird, but just for a second. Then she releases it to find a better human companion.

After 10 puffs she feels more relaxed. This is another thing therapy suggested, breathing and pretending the nicotine is taking over your lungs. Remembering the nerves unwinding to the drug. Then, unlike when you actually smoke, you get to let the darkness forever leave and your lungs remain unharmed. This helps.

Flopping her messy curls across her head she picks up her copy of "Emma" by Jane Austin so she can dream of a night dancing in a large marble ballroom in a periwinkle gown and talk about high society gossip. One can always dream. Of course having a guy in her dream would be nice but she's lost all hope in that.

Choosing to get ready for bed she closes the door to her loft and grabs a black towel from the rack I'm her foyer In her front room. Typical nightly routine. (AN: don't you love watching these on YouTube!?) taking her makeup remover wipe he lifts her tan wrist and removes the black ink that stains her wrist and future. 110. Tomarrow will be 109 and so on and so forth until the last day of school. Isn't life funny?