It snapped; the lead did. I pushed too hard. I've been doing that as of late, well really the entire time I've been doing this. It stresses me a lot. You wouldn't understand if you haven't done it. The anger, the love, the sadness, the regret, the empty ache, the dropping of your stomach, all of it. Every emotion that you let go of.
I pumped the end of the poor pencil. Over the past few years, I've had this pencil. It's been through a lot, so much. Sometimes I wish it could talk too. See that I wasn't crazy to feel the way that I do. I know I am though. I'm a crazy selfish bastard, who doesn't diverse everything that I have.
For the longest time, I've been contemplating this, what I'm about to. It's scary, but the good kind. Almost like a roller coaster ride. When the feeling of anticipation swells in your stomach and it feels so new and fresh and scary but is so lovely. That's what it's like, simply put. The rides were never like that for me. Anxiety would fill my chest, it's shaky uncertain hand would hold mine making my young youthful body bare its tremors. There was never any pleasure in trips to amusement parks.
My hands shake now at the thought, and the pleasurable nostalgic feeling almost as pungent as the acid that filled my stomach. It was nice to feel this way, to get some of the normal-ness of childhood. That would never happen, at least not for me. The normal was something so easily achievable to others, it made me think why it was only easy for me to act it.
You know the scene in books or movies where the protagonist has something on their mind, some terrible thought that keeps polluting their deep mysterious eyes and stitching their wonderfully beautiful lips together. They act happy and normal towards some supporting character, who's means something to them, but is easily seen through. That was me - has been me - from eight to well. . . now.
The smile on my face was really convincing. I even got the eyes to look right. The moment I realized what it did to my family - how it made them feel - I fixed myself. It made them not normal, the one house on the block that had the weird girl who shakes like she has Tourettes Syndrome. It made her family get looks of pity so being them mature eight-year-old I was I noticed. I fixed it and things went back to normal.
Oh, how noble am I? The little girl who sacrificed so much just for her family, how honorable? Don't get that idea. I wasn't smart or noble, I was stupid and naive. Instead of getting the help I needed I hid my emotions and ended up here, with this mind. I am a good actor, though, to give my self some credit. The main reason I know that was because when I lied to my support character they never noticed. What a good actress I am, right?
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Dear. . .
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