Why Did She Do It?

I take my notebook and rip out a piece of paper and with the purple sharpie in my hand I scribbled a note on the piece of paper.....No one understood me, they never cared to steal one glance at me and if they did, it would always be the look of disgust. I hated who I am and who I was, every time I would make a new future Someone would bring up the past and it would just keep going in a cycle from being ok again to being who I once was, but now I am stuck at this state....it's called depression, but if you put it in my words it's called "suicidal." And this? This is my story...."Why did I do it?" But do what? Lets find out