Secrets.

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Secrets.
I remember when I was little I would spend hours writing in an old journal my mum had given me, writing only a few pages or just a couple sentences. But they were always the same clueless thoughts of what would become of me.
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I guess that's where it all started. Writing in that old stupid journal. I had no idea that, that journal would become something much more.
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Those once happy thoughts on all those pages, would soon turn into depressing nightmares. The once happy little girl I was, would soon turn into something much less.
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And as I sit here reading through everything I had said, I realize just how much one thing can change and impact your life.
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I've built these walls up around me, walls that even I can't break down. I've got so many secrets that I want to scream out to the world, but I can't.
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I keep to myself most of the time. I'm not usually the one to go out and have a lunch date with my friends or go shopping. I'm okay with that, it's better that way. So I don't hurt anyone.
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I've got secrets only I know. I've got secrets that no one will ever find out. I've got secrets that will never leave my mouth.
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All of my secrets went into that journal. They started as what any 8 year old would put into their journal. But as I soon got older those secrets got worse. I started exploring the world. At some point I realized what cruel things it brings to us.
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All those cruel things ate me alive. Reality set in that not everything was meant to be perfect, not everyone was perfect. This world is full of so many flaws. And I started to understand life.
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I know what your thinking "what's so bad about life", well ask yourself this, what isn't? Life is supposed to be fun and worth living, but, at least to me, it's not.
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Life is full of hateful judging things. Everything around you is watching you slowly fade away. And the more I thought about it, the more meaningless life became.
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I'm a fucked up teenager, I know. Things haven't always been good in my life, but things also haven't always been bad. The more I sit in my bedroom listening to music the more I wallow away and my thoughts destroy me.
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Every night I still manage to write in that shitty journal that my shitty mum got me. Every night I think about my life and how much I want to be saved. We all know that won't be happening though.
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I mean, who would like a freak like me? Exactly. No one. That's why I keep to myself. That's why I have so many secrets, and that's why I won't tell them to anyone. Because no one cares.
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As the days went on, the shittier I got. The shittier everything got. The more I wrote in that stupid journal. That journal has become apart of me.
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My life was at it's worst, when I met someone. Someone who I would soon trust with my whole life, someone who I would tell those secrets to. Someone who made me happy.
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Only to see that person make my world come crashing down in a matter of minutes.
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And as I sit here with tears streaming down my face and my own thought's tempting me I realize, secrets are what I am made of. Secrets are all I will ever be, nothing more nothing less.
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My name is Alex Hannah Brooks and I am made entirely of secrets.

Secrets || Michael CliffordWhere stories live. Discover now