The Secret

Chapter 1 - Just Another Dream

I see everyone in the hallway laughing at me. I try my best to ignore them and walk to my locker. I stop dead in my tracks and stare at what was on my locker. There were hurtful words written, craved, and engraved into the hard, cold metal. 

'Loser, fat, ugly, annoying, pathetic, useless, worthless!' 

"You're such a loser!" Someone said. 

I began running through the hallway, trying to escape this school that I call hell. But, there were endless hallways upon hallways upon hallways. I always lose my way. 

I eventually made my way to an empty hallway and saw the doors that lead to the football field. I open the doors and run outside. 

"Hey, nerd! Why are you crying this time, cry baby?" One of the football players asked. 

"Everyone hates you! I'll buy a razor for you if you can't afford one!" A girl shouted. 

I cried even more, which I didn't think was possible. 

"Yeah! Do you want me to buy you some new clothes, orphan girl? Although, I think you might need an XL!" Another boy shouted. 

I was surrounded by hell. 

My life is hell. 

"So pathetic," someone else said.

"Why is she even still alive?" 

"I know right?!"  Someone said. 

People were constantly talking about me behind my back, whispering about me, and telling me straight to my face that I was worthless. 

Everyone made sure that I knew how much they hate me. 

No one's there for me. 

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I wake up, breathing heavily. 

"It was just a dream," I tell myself. 

Just a dream. 

Just another one of those stupid dreams. 

Not a nightmare. A nightmare is what's new to you, or comes back to haunt you from the past. 

A dream is something that you're used to. Something that doesn't bother you. 

I'm used to dreams like that.  

I don't like the fact that I'm used to them. But, I am, and there's nothing that I can do about it. 

My name is Lily Collins. I'm a junior in high school. And I've been bullied for as long as I can remember. I'm an orphan at Small Miracles Orphanage. Except, nothing is miracle for me. Not one single thing. 

My mom and dad both died in a car accident. So, I'm all alone. I don't have any friends. It's just me in this great big world. 

I wish I had someone to talk to. A shoulder to cry on. Someone that would tell me that everything will be okay. But, I don't. And I never will. 

I go to Upper Lake High School. Well, I call it hell. 

Everyone treats people like trash. 

Of course there are the clicks. You have the nerds, the popular's, the football jocks, the wannabes, and the so-called losers. 

Can you guess which one I'm in?

I'm in the loser's click, apparently. 

Of course I don't understand the point of a click anyways. I mean, why can't people just be themselves?

Well, that's a little bit about me. 

"Time to get up!" Angie shouted. "Everyone, you've got school today!"

Angie is the therapist and counselor at Small Miracles. 

I like how we don't have to talk to her unless we want to. I think it's a good thing how were not forced to share our personal information, just so they can write it down and stare at the long pages of notes all about my personal life. 

I don't want to have to talk to a counselor because I don't want to be sent off to some hospital and be in Alcatraz and hospitalized. Because, I cut. 

I do it because it helps me lose the pain that I'm feeling on the inside. The pain of everybody's hate. Everybody's words. And my words. 

I wear long sleeves to cover my cuts. I like how no one notices though. No one notices the tears in my eyes, or the redness on my cheeks from my self-abuse. 

No one notices how hurt I truly am. But, sometimes I wish someone did.