The Struggling Girl

The Struggling Girl

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Dec 23, 2015
Have you ever felt like the whole world is agents you? Like fate is punishing you but you're doing good? I have, and let me me tell you, its not fun. I live in a world of disappointment and depression. I've always been that fat, quite, and stupid kid in the second grade to the seventh. But I am in 9th grade now.. High school. ~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~° Chapter 1 "Its a cold morning in Reno today huh?" I said shivering. "Yeah.. It is.. Well let's finish cleaning the house, the sooner its done the sooner we get to Vegas!" Mother yelped with excitement. "Yeah. Okay." I said with a half smile. I stood in the driveway taking a deep breath and staring into the stars know it will be the last time I see them again. I walk into my empty bare house that smells like cleaning chemicals and grab a broom and dust pan then walk to my room. "Empty.. Like me." I said standing I'm my doorway looking into my room where all the good memory's will play like a movie film.
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"One body: A death, a suicide, and now a murder. Lunacy is settling over, leaving its fingerprints on them, while breathing down their necks. The warm kiss of air is mistaken for nothing but a midnight breeze, and finger prints not much more than dirt. "Are you worthy enough, huh? Do you think I'm such a fool? You'll die there. Ashton Kahn. Mark my words. You are going to die and your family is going to live a dead life. You know what grief is? Of course, why would YOU know? You haven't been miserable for once in your life, have you? You have always been the super-star, haven't you? Of course you'll die. You deserve nothing but a deadly, rotten grave. You are such a chick, aren't you? Huh. I hate you Ashton Kahn. You are so mean. You think wealth is the world. You think beauty is the world. Don't you find having the best muscles, having the best grades, having the perfect eyes, having the perfect clothes, shoes-" Her words were so powerful, her expression meaner. She meant it. And how right she was. There I was, living a beautiful life. Of course I had no idea what misery is. I'd never been miserable for a second. Hah. She was giving me a lesson. The feeling was so intense, her words ruling my brain, empowering my veins. I was so useless. Have I ever cried? Have I ever thought why people say Life is just a Lie? Did I ever care why was the guy behind the coffee shop shutters crying? Did I ever gave it a second thought what did that guy felt when I called him Bozo? Or what was going on with that girl I heard of whose parents died a day ago? Of course, what was I capable of feeling? And there I had always thought I was the perfect me. The boy who could do anything. The boy who ruled. The boy who lived. Life is just a Lie. And for the first time in ever, I felt it to be so, so real. The reality of this was ever-awakening, it's power would have killed a soul. Life is just a Lie.

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