We've updated our Content Guidelines.
Review the latest guidelines to keep sharing stories safely.
WE'RE ALL MAD HERE

WE'RE ALL MAD HERE

  • WpView
    Reads 46
  • WpVote
    Votes 2
  • WpPart
    Parts 5
WpMetadataReadOngoing18m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, May 20, 2016
WpInfo
Fiction
Mystery
Everybody is insane, Where can I find a place to call it my own? I am lost. Where am I? Is there anyone whom I can talk to? Is there anyone whom I can ask for help? Please. Help me. ---------------- We're All Mad Here 2016 ----------------- Honoka_Miki11
All Rights Reserved
#335
morbid
WpChevronRight
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • The Rich Emo: Ouran High School Host Club
  • Winter's 2016 Bio
  • IT & ST Imagines & Preferences
  • messier - shigaraki x overhaul
  • BHA males x seme male Ghoul reader op
  • Reddit Horror Stories
  • 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑬 | tk☆
  • Submission
  • OSC Oneshots
  • F*** Cancer, This One Did Us All In.

Loneliness. Depression. Broken. Scared. Devastated. Hopeless. Mournful. Disheartening. Bleak. Joyless. Somber. I have no one. Depression and Loneliness are the only things I feel. My family tries to make me happy, but I just put on a fake smile and cry about it in my room. They act like everything is alright, but everything is not. They KNOW I was devastated about Mom's murder. They KNOW I was heartbroken about Dad's sickness that eventually killed him. That's all I've thought about. Devastation and heartbroken. Just because of those two things. Never in my life I have been this devastating. Dayton, Hayden, Angel, or Monica know how to make me truly happy. Not even my own siblings know how to make me show a real smile. Suicide is all I can think about day to day and I've almost died because of that. DEPRESSION IS A REAL THING. NO ONE KNOWS HOW I FEEL EVERYDAY. NO ONE CAN JUDGE OTHERS ABOUT DEPRESSION OR EVEN MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT BECAUSE ITS A REAL THING. DEPRESSION HAS KILLED PEOPLE. EVERYONE IN MY LIFE JUDGES ME JUST BECAUSE I DON'T SMILE, LAUGH, HUG, OR DO ANYTHING NORMAL PEOPLE DO. I CUT MYSELF, I CRY, I YELL, I VENT, I PUSH PEOPLE OUT OF MY LIFE. Those are the things people are worried about me. "Go kill yourself and join your parents in hell." They say and I just shrug it off and find a private place to hide and cry it out. "I CAN'T DEAL WITH LIFE ANYMORE!!!!" I say and I use my sharp nails and cut myself then cry some more. A gun is buried within my arm for defense from my dad, but I use it in case I am tired of society. Then that's when I met the Host Club. They saw my sadness and made me a part of it to repay my debt for accidentally breaking a vase. I am now a Host for men to flatter them, but how can normal guys want me to be a Host when I wear lip earrings, eyeliner, chains, and have a gun in my arm? I'm the definition of Hell. Then he made me smile again, something that I thought I would never get back. Happiness.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines