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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1833237
Sorry this is depressing but please feedback c:
She wakes up every morning, scared for her life to take a step outside because she knows whats waiting for her when she does.

No one understands her.

No one understands whats in her head.

The fear. The pain. But why should they have to care? I mean shes just a freak right? Yet, without even realizing it, rapped up too tight into other things, they caused it. All she hears is shit all day. She even hates herself. When shes at home her parents hit her, screaming at her. Telling her what a worthless child she is. When she goes to school all the mainstream girls in her class shove her around. Pushing her over, spreading rumors, avoiding her, and making faces when she walks by. Shes never done anything. But thats how we work.



Find one person and make their life a living hell to distract from our flaws. Make ourselfs feel better by aiming all our problems towards one person. Even if they didnt do anything. And once they're targeted, they're set for life.



Now, because of them, she has no one. Even her siblings hate her. Saying she's wierd because she doesnt talk anymore.

Every word that came out of her mouth wasn't good enough, so she shut up. She's completely silent. If no one wants to listen to her talk, then why should she waste her breath?

Thats a good thing, better for everyone, right?

WRONG. Theyre all to absorbed in being funny, being cool, or remaining popular to see that she's hurting. Badly. She's become a broken soul with no one to go to, and nothing to comfort her. She doesn't deserve this, but is treated this way anyways. And she has no one to tell. Keeping everything bottled inside. She can't even take it anymore. Holding on for years, and years, all hopless ones. Its too overwhelming.

Its too much.

She's been strong for so long now, but she can't do it on her own anymore. On her knees crying now, screaming and pounding her fists into the walls and ground. She cant even get up because she's in so much pain. Flashes of all the abuse and hatred, tears and hoplessness come back into her mind. Running through over and over again, as if there's no end to this. She cries so hard it feels like the tears will never stop. Bent over, her cries swim through the air around her, but of course no one will hear. No one ever does.

No one ever will.

Her scars are cut too deep at this point. She takes up all the courage she has left to get up. She walks over to her desk.

Says one last goodbye,

before she lifts the knife in her hand, brings her wrist forward, and ends everything.

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