Stories I made last year that I can't just leave unintended

Left to Hang

((This story has suicidal elements in it, if you guys feel uncomfortable about the topic, then I suggest that you skip this one!))

Why were you always so sad?

That question and what that question led to always seemed to bother you so much.

Ever since you were little, you were basically a ray of sunshine that always beamed every day and every night with the brightest smile you've ever had in your life.

When you were in Mexico, you always looked in the bright side of things even when bad things happened.

You picked flowers for your mother and grandmother, you showed your strength to your father, you always played around with your twin brother with the small farm your family had.

You loved all the animals, especially the goats, yeah, you named one of the goats 'Linda' because their eyes seemed so cute to you for some reason or another.

Once again, the only time you've ever felt sad would be when your great-grandfather died from his sickness.

Whether it may have been his heart or that he coughed out a few flowers before he took his final breath, you felt like a sickening dread over your entire body.

You and your brother always loved your great-grandfather, and both of you always loved to hear his stories about monsters, creatures, folktales, life lessons, and all that.

When it came the time to bury him, you cried like there was no tomorrow for him to get up and tell you and your twin brother some of his stories.

But he didn't, he was buried in a coffin made of wood, and you never saw him again.

That was the start of the weight on your shoulders.

When you and your family moved to Hurricane, Utah, you didn't know what was going on, you just helped everyone pack up and to see your uncle Antonio again.

But when your parents told both of you and your twin brother that you were staying in Hurricane, Utah for good, you cried again.

The weight on your shoulders started to grow even heavier on you when you started school.

Yes, no one but your uncle and his family spoke Spanish for you and your family and did everything they could to make you understand English.

It was tough, yes, even the weights got heavier and heavier to the point where you couldn't even get up from bed to start the day all over again.

You just didn't understand English at all, you couldn't read it, you couldn't say it, and you most definitely couldn't write it either.

It was an absolute Hell for you to go through all that while other kids pointed and laughed at you and told you to go back home.

You and your twin brother hated it, you both hated school, you both hated English, and both of you definitely wanted to go back home!

But you both stayed, and even when it got a little better when you both understood more and more on English, the weights on your shoulders still hung heavy with worry.

Then when the weights were just too much for you, you meet a very special boy in your life.

Jackson Afton, or Michael Afton as his name was changed a year or two later, met you with a pretty nervous look on his face.

It was recess and you had a pretty bad scrape on your knee, you cried but you couldn't really get up because of the pain.

He came to you with a rubber ball on his hands, his face still of worry as he leaned down to your level and asked: