Thirteen is supposed to be unlucky. I was born on the 13th of January. For me, that seems to be the most unlucky. Remembering how I've always just wished I was never born. That hits wrong, I realize that. Even though I acknowledge that and I know how you must feel, if you know me, hearing that but somehow I'm not sorry. You say to me, "No!" and I understand why. I love you for that, although that doesn't make the feeling go away. Your concern will not make the desire lessen. I'm sorry, I don't wanna make you cry, because darling I love you and I really do wanna die. I know that you love me and you will be sad if I leave. I just don't think I can be here anymore. I want to escape I need to run away. There is not any single reason for why I want to leave. I had lots of love that everyone has given me. I just want to get away and go far away, so far that I don't exist anymore.
YOU ARE READING
idk
Short Story~ Hey, I'm Sam and this me.♡ This "book"is me I guess, so this "book" is made up of random thoughts, poems for when I feel like it, stories, things to explain how I feel and my feelings, or just stuff I wrote when I felt like writing. I don't re...
