Blood of Romance
Looking back, I do think blood is a beautiful color. A thick red substance in the human body. Hers was cherry red. Like the color of lipstick or watermelon. They think I'm crazy, but I think I'm a genius. A free room to live in all by yourself, food, and visitors. This is the life. They think I'ts over, but the fun has just begun!
October 1st, I think it was when we met. Steven Siezmore. He was gorgeous and I believed we were in love! We met in chemistry class which is kind of ironic! He accidentally picked up my books at the end of class! What a great reason to talk! So we exchanged glances and phone number and books of course. We talked every single night, and I believe that I was in love. Love is such a strong word but I do believe that I was. For Steven, that just wasn't enough. One day, a french exchange student came. Her name was Lana. Lana and I became great friends! I believe Steven thougth that us becoming coming firns was his ticket to talk to her more. She was beyond beautiful, and apparently Steven thought so too! He started talking to her more and more and me less and less. I tried to stay strong but I was broken, and I tried to get him back but maybe I did come on too strong! He said we needed to break up and when he said those words, Some thing broke in me that day. Its like half of my heart died, but the other half of me was still alive. Not living to be free and want to love. Living to kill.
She was the worst harrasment victim. I harrases many people that Steven began to even think about being friends with. I watched her walk home every day. I memorized her address, her name and her schedule for every single day! One day, I decided i would begin to harass. I hacked into her computer and change her whole schedule but that was just the begging. I followed her home. Watched her at night and the only thing she knew was how deathly afraid she was at night. I left her death threats in her locker. One day I left her a note saying no one likes you and you are better off dead. So she killed her self. I felt liberated and excitement rose inside me. One person knew i was "insane" and the got people to watch my every move and the day she killed her self was the day I died was the I was taken to and Insane asylum. I screamed my self to sleep overnight. AHHHHHHHHHHHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGGGGGG! Those screams kept me alive. I tried to escape in so many ways. Then one day, I cracked. Steven came to visit me. He told me something that I will never forget. He said, " YOU ARE A PIECE OF CRAP AND I NEVER LOVED YOU! YOU CAN ROT IN HERE FOR THE REST OF YOU LIFE I DONT CARE! " He smiled and walked away. I tried to attack of him but in a straight jacket, its pretty hard. I never left that asylum, but I don't care. I think Im a genius. They think its over, but when I leave here, the fun… would have just begun. See you soon steven.
THREE YEARS LATER
I was in a deep depression. My dail routine was, wake up and sit in my bed waitng for a visitor. If the visitor was my parents, I would scream and yell so they would leave. If you looked in a dictionary, the deffinition of Insae wad my name. Stacy Higel.
I think I started to get better. I would maybe say hi and how are you doing before I would scream. it was a major improvement. The thought I was better..., but I sure as hell proved them wrong. I was let out of the asylum and able to go to high school and get my education, Even though I should have been in college. I was put on some depression pill and I would have to take two a day. When I went to school, everybody was affraid of me, like I was a bully that no one would mess with. Then one day I was bumped into and I was said in the nicest voice," could you watch it next time?" The person replied, " what are you gonna do to me, harass me and make me kill my self."
I went home right then and there and everything started to make since to me. I was still insane, and I realized I didnt want to live since I took a life away. You arent supposed to take more than 3 a day. I took 7 all at once. Nearly Passed out on the floor. My mom found me before its too late. The feeling of almost dying was an interesting one. It was like being ocked in a closet. Banging and scream to be helped but no one saves you. You just want to be heard but no one was listening. I wanted to die! Why did they have to ruin everyhting? I would have been much happier dead, and so would the rest of the world. I didnt deserve to live. Feeling dead and like no one loves you is the same thing as dying.
Living in the asylum makes me relive everysingle horrible thing that has ever happened in my life. Today would be the prefect example. I just re-thought every single moment in my life. The scariest part was, I never cried once during any of it and I never will. Dying, which means ceasing to live. Those were my favorite words! Dying, which means ceasing to live.... and one day... I would get my wish. Dying, which means ceasing to live...
