Help Me

The very moment I wake up every morning, when there is no past, no future. Where I receive a bright spark of hope washing over me. Then reality sets in, memory's flood throughout my entire body sending a horrid taste of bile at the back of my throat. I suppose I should be used to it by now, seeing as I have woke up to this every morning for the past three years - that sense of false hope that is destroyed by a reminder of that night.The night that made me the way I am, that made me an outcast, a delinquent with a disgraceful attitude, the kid all teachers hate.