The Rich Emo: Ouran High School Host Club
  • Reads 1,506
  • Votes 21
  • Parts 21
  • Time 4h 18m
  • Reads 1,506
  • Votes 21
  • Parts 21
  • Time 4h 18m
Complete, First published Nov 08, 2016
Mature
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.
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This is my truth

72 parts Ongoing

My life has been an intense journey from a little girl who was beaten down and abused into believing that she was worthless, to a woman at 43 years of age who is still desperately searching for who she truly is. I found her though. I did. And she writes like me, from inside of me. She is me. This girl that I've been in love with since time first existed, is indeed me. The way that she walks. With her hands... and how she talks? The hearts that she's captured, the souls that she has inspired. I'm now trying to be her. I've never felt that I was good enough to actually be myself!!! I always knew how pure and clear and free I was inside. But people told me otherwise, in a very cruel way. No one ever spared my feelings or thought to speak to me with kindness or love. My parents were very serious and strict people. They believed that there was only 1 way to act and inside I knew that I did NOT fit in the parameters of the behavior expected of me. And every single time I made my Step Daddy sigh or frown it felt like I knife in my heart. I was a let down. Always too loud. Always moving too much. Always too fat and always too ugly. Always too much. Unless I sat quietly. But I've always been a firecracker and all of that containment really made me want to blow off! All of what was inside of me, swirling and dividing in me. Burying the side of me that I loved the most! I was a bastard and a blasphemy. Harsh words for a girl of 3. They said them when they baptized me.