Meriliya Sanchez (Ongoing Editing)

Chapter 3

"Have a good day!" I called when I got off the bus. 

I walked into the open school building but without anyone inside it except the maids and a few teachers. I strolled to my locker, organising it before grabbing my bag and walking to the one place I feel at peace. The library. I took my time seeing that it was only a flight of stairs up and down a few classes. 

"Good morning, Meriliya" The librarian who's in her fifties greeted me just as I passed her table. 

"Good morning, Mrs. Huggins"  I smiled walking to the right back of the room. I pulled one of the gray bean bags to the corner in between two big bookshelves. 

I pulled out my diary and a few sheets of paper that's already been half used. Half written, actually. I set them on the floor pulling out different colours of pens and a pencil. 

Dear diary, 

Today is Tuesday and I'm here in the library. I'm tired, I want to sleep in my bed...and maybe never get up. Whoa, I just said that? But diary, won't that be a lot easier...huh? There won't be anyone who's gonna cry on my deathbed or even miss me. So it works for both me and them. But before THAT happens, which probably will be soon, I just wish I'll get the answers to all those unanswered questions that I've had since forever. 

Can I ask you this one thing that actually leads to so many other questions?

Will I ever be free from this word that only keeps running in my mind, pain? 
It seems like only death is the only solution to get rid of this. I just don't want my already believing self to believe it. 
But I just don't understand why, diary. I'm sure there are other teenagers going through pain but not like this! I don't know why, but I feel like I'm the only person who has ever gone through PAIN. But then again, I don't know. Why does life have to be so difficult and unfair? Huh? How long am I to keep going like this? Don't I have things I'd like to do with this life that's been given to me? You know I don't like being ungrateful but what else can I say for how things are, diary? I DO want to see the good in everyday but I just can't get myself to. Won't you feel the same? Won't you feel like there's no point in living because it's always the same? How many more times? How much longer do I have to always cry myself out everyday to move on? How many more times will they hurt me? Will the nightmares ever go away? Why does it have to evoke at odd times, like nights when it feels like I've been through hell and back? Why does mom treat me like I'm a piece of shit? Why is she so cruel to me? How much more blood will be shredded on the floors of the attic? Am I that ugly or am I not good enough or fit to be her daughter? I don't get it. I mean, how can someone be so evil? Not just someone, but your own mother at that. Why does she do that to me? And on my watch? What have I done to her for her to treat me like that? I don't think she's cold hearted. Is she? No, then how is she so good to Fallon? She does have a heart but why is this evil person to me? On the other hand, why is Fallon always mean to me? What did I do to her, for her to be mean to me? And dad. Why does dad not give a D to me? I can't even remember the last time we've ever spoken. Why is my family like this? What did I do to them, diary? I'm just gonna ask you one more thing which I'll not get the answer to. 

Why the hell am I even born if life is gonna be treating me like this? 

I looked up at the clock that read 7:28. I've still got time for class. I closed my diary, putting it back in my bag's secret pocket I made. I sighed feeling a little relaxed writing out whatever that had been running in my head from last night. I pulled out my phone from my pocket, typed out the passcode that led me to the homescreen. Another way I've been able to distract myself is from reading. I kept an alarm for fifteen minutes before continuing to read from where I've stopped last.