The World is Wrong

I'm not too sure when I stopped functioning.
Maybe it was when my friends began questioning the amount of vodka bottles I had stashed in the corner of my room and I had to conjure up a make-shift story to tell them instead of admitting to the guilt and denial I was feeling. Maybe it was when the person I cared about the most was too scared to tell me her problems, so she turned to drinking and hanging her legs off of a rooftop; getting closer to flinging herself off every night. Maybe it was when my own father begged me to talk to him through his spit-fire rage but gave up and uttered the most devastating phrase I've ever heard said to me:
"It's like you're dead."
Maybe I am dead. Or maybe my brains dead, and I'm just a walking, breathing corpse; not dead, but not living either. Perhaps I was living in a state of dysphoria, uneased with the world, however that seemed too logical and far too easy to believe.
Or maybe I am like this because of him.
***
Kira Richards is your everyday teen, whether it was partying with friends, to self-loathing by herself . She feels disconnected from the world, and is in a constant state of dysphoria, successfully hiding it from those who care. When she meets a stranger who is persistent in knowing her, even though he will only be around for three weeks, will Kira let him in? What does he want?