Currently sitting in class with an assignment to do, but instead I am writing to people who will look at this and think that I am just another fucked up person. So what if I am? Maybe we are all fucked up, but some people just don't fully embrace it. When I lived in a different state, everything was beautiful. I would sit on the roof of my house and take deep breaths while freezing and watching each snowflake fall down swiftly, to join the others. Look up, wishing that i could forever be enveloped in the dark night with brightly shining stars. Each star a different bubble of gas, truly special to everything else. That night was the night I go back to when I feel like just stopping everything. I miss the dark sky, the stars, the moon shining brightly. I miss the house that I used to live in. It was by far, my favorite house that I've ever lived in. Maybe that is a lie. Who will know? Bye.
YOU ARE READING
The diary of a depressed teen.
Short StoryContains depression, suicidal thoughts, self-harm references, and my strong opinions about everything I'm angry about at the time of which I write each chapter. This is just how I feel my life is going right now.
