A Paper Cut Is The Least Of My Worries

APCLW - Epilogue

Vincent’s POV Prologue

I hated school. It was pretty much what I blamed all my problems on, and it was a torture for me and I just felt like I had to watch my back literally for seven hours straight. It wasn’t so much the stares that I got from people that didn’t know me; it was the stares from the people that I’d once considered to be my friends that really got to me. Who knew this world was so fucked up that you couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Not even your best friend you’ve known since diaper days. Well, that is if you’re lucky to have had a friend that long. Family certainly couldn’t be trusted, especially when they had certain views and weren’t going to change just because of one person. Even if it is their own flesh and blood.

            Once I figured out what I was and what was wrong with me, I just needed to tell someone. I couldn’t take the pressure of no one else knowing but me. I’d known for years, but I needed to talk to someone. So, I blabbed. Yes, I blabbed on myself. I hated not having anyone to talk to about my problem, and needed to voice it. When I finally told somebody, it was the last outcome I’d ever expected. The person simply threw it back in my face and declared our friendship over. Soon the whole school knew, and then my parents found out. They actually wanted me to do counseling. HA. I would’ve needed counseling if I didn't tell anyone.

            For years I felt like walls were closing in on me, and the only way to get them to stop was to tell my secret, which I was not willing to do for awhile. But as I got older the walls just closed in more and more, and I just felt like I was banging on the walls, trying to get them to stop. All those stupid psychologists and psychiatrists who say you should talk about what you feel with others can go screw themselves. I tried their theory and it was just thrown back at me, and now my life is a living hell as opposed to walls closing in on me. At least I wasn't tortured then. Of course, I was torturing myself on the inside, but this is far worse. It’s just a matter of time before I comment suicide.

            Hi, my name is Vincent, and I’m suicidal.

Kimberly’s POV Prologue

            Friends had always been the closest family I had. My actually family, you know, the ones who supposedly raised me were practically never around. Why do you ask? Because they were workaholics and obsessed with their jobs and money. As a child, the only time I really remember my family actually being involved with each other is the holidays, and sometimes on the weekends. During the week my parents didn’t have any time for me or their two other kids. That was really sad to me. If you didn’t have time to raise your kids, then you shouldn’t have them.

            Sometimes I would lie awake at night and wish that they would just put me up for adoption or something. I’ll admit, I was attention starved, but I had a good reason. My parents paid little attention to me, and I just felt like living with another family would be better. I had a good life though. I wasn't abused in any kind of way. Not physically or sexually. Attention wise I was and I see that now, but at least it wasn’t anything over the top. I try to interact with my little brother Kenneth as much as I can since I know my parents aren’t going to do it. They’re the same they were ten years ago, when I was Kenny’s age.

            Sometimes I think that’s what made me the way I was today. My parents are sort of supportive with the way I am. I mean, they don’t oppose it or anything, and they certainly don’t hate me for it. They just didn’t take it the way I thought they would when I told them. Then again, I was probably expecting too much from them. They didn’t pay attention to me my whole life, so why would they start now?

            Hi, my name is Kimberly and I do stupid things to get noticed because I’ve always been attention starved, and I like to have the spotlight on me.