my voice means nothing

my voice means nothing

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing34m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Mar 10, 2013
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Fiction
Social Themes
I was so confused. My life was a wreck. I ran my hair through my hair and letting the tears run down my face. I could tasted the salty taste of my tears. I sobbed and pulled my knees to my chest. I rocked back and forth on the floor. I turned my music up higher. I didn't care if I busted my ear drums. My music was my only escape from the hell I was living in and the devil living across my room making my life the hell it was. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe this is the life that was chosen for me. I couldn't control that, right? When I was little I had always wanted a sibling. Being an only child was quite boring and lonely. I had always wished for one. I prayed and prayed for my parents to have another child but it never happened. Little did I know that when I actually got my wish that I would regret it more than I could ever imagine. I hated that devil.
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Every sound in my world is amplified due to the silence. Every footstep, every ticking clock in every classroom, every pen that clicks or drops to the floor, every little sharp sound is so loud in my head that it pisses me off. I also don't do well under pressure, but I'm always trying so hard to calm down that it puts me under even more pressure. I only know two emotions and have my whole life. I've only ever been those two. I don't get sad, I don't feel happy or exited. I'm either angry or unbearably lonely. I'm grade school, some kids thought I was the devil. I'm not. I'm just....I'm just different. So don't go around thinking I'm some kind of demon, okay?!

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