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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story of a teenage girl, trying to find herself in a cruel world. A story of bad thoughts. This story represents how some girls feel about their lives.

Submitted: May 12, 2016

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Submitted: May 12, 2016



"It's okay" he says, wrapping his arms around me as I shake with sadness "it will be okay soon." "No it won't," I whisper back, "it hasn't even begun." 

Earlier that day...
It's six in the morning and the depression has already set in, the life I knew is over. I lay here, in my bed, wishing for death, for my soul to roam free, to be able to lose the horrible feelings. I've thought about it before, just one easy jump and I would not have to deal with the pain, I would no longer have to yearn for death. No more crying once everyone has finally fell fast asleep. I won't feel the need to relieve myself by cutting deep into my skin and watching the blood fall to the ground. But I won't do it because I know, deep down, that somebody loves me, as much as I try to push them away, to keep them away from the parasite within me, they always come back. I hate it. 

Why do they want to be around me? I'm destructive, everything and everyone I have ever loved has been destroyed... By me. Me. Me and only me! 

Why won't it stop? Why does nobody else have this problem? I feel so alone. Totally and utterly secluded to a life of sadness, terror, and hatred. 

I have lived, loved, laughed, all the necessities to living life to the fullest... Can't I be done now?

I've had this pain since a couple years after meeting him. He did this to me. Him and my mother. They were abusive to me, to each other, it was horrifying to watch and I always watched because every time I left, I only worried about what my mother would look like when I got home. Would she look beaten or normal? 

That is definitely not a question a 10 year old girl should be asking herself. But yet, it was the only thing on my mind.

Him and my mother, that is how this started!

My father, my real father, made it go away for a while, it was one of the best times of my life. My father worked his ass off for five years just to see me, his little girl. He changed his lifestyle, his habits, he stopped the drugs, all for me. The story of my father doesn't end there though... After doing all that hard work to see me, he abandoned me, just like everyone else I have ever loved. Gone. No explanation, no sympathetic apology, that is the worst part. Every night, right after my shower and right before bed, he would call me. He never missed a day, I knew when I got out of the shower I would get a call, it was the best feeling in the world. The only night he never called was that one dreadful night. He never called again!
We no longer talked and no longer saw each other like a father and daughter should.
Then, five years later, he decided to pop back into my life, he bought me gifts. Expensive gifts. He bought me the gifts to try to make up for the lost time. But nothing could fix me, especially not him, after he helped break me. The damage was and is permanent!

The tears are streaming down my face as if to flow perfectly, like a river. The river that I hold back when I'm around others. Whenever I cry I get this feeling deep in my chest, it feels as if something inside of me is breaking. Maybe this is what it feels like to have your heart broken into a million pieces, or maybe it's my body and soul longing for peace, or death, in a harsher word.

Now that I have succeeded in reminiscing about my past for two hours, I think I'm finally going to get up and get "ready" for my day. In reality, I'm never really ready for the day ahead of me, I have just been faking it and lying for so long that I make scenarios in my head that make me "ready" for the dreadful day ahead. My daily routine, that's what I will do, the same boring old routine. Nothing new. I wish I had something different to do each day but I'm stuck, unable to move, doing the exact same thing everyday.

I'm in the car now and all I can think about is how much I despise the daytime and the longing I feel for nighttime. I don't necessarily like the daytime because I feel like nobody is really their true selves when they are around a lot of people. But at night is when everyone, the misfits, the odd balls, even the popular people, come out of the dark and is truly themselves. The nighttime also has a beautiful glow, the moon, the stars, the night sky, it's all so beautiful. 

I'm walking into school now, of course, I'm late... Again. Just before I walk through the school doors, I look up towards the clouds. I see one cloud that catches my attention, I stand there and stare until I realize that this cloud, in fact, all the clouds remind me of the ruffles on a little girls dress. Oh my god... I can literally overthink the god damn clouds.

I finally decide to take on the day; I walk into school. Once I get to class, I start to think. I just realized the only reason I wake up, go to school, and push through my day with a smile is for a handful of people. The funny part is that these same people are the reason I cry at night, but their also the reason I smile and laugh. I don't understand it. The fact that I love these people is a hard concept for me to grasp because it's hard for me to love after the abandonment of almost everyone I have loved. Love makes me feel vulnerable, so I slowly pull away, but lately it's hard because I don't want to leave but I don't want to hurt or disappoint them either. See my problem?

I have gotten through seventy-five percent of my day and suddenly it has hit me. Only he can relieve me of the sadness but I don't want to be a bother. I have come to the conclusion that I'm a lost cause therefore I will just sit here in silence, holding back the tears.

"I'm fine." I think I have said that about a million times today. All day people have been asking me, non-stop, if I'm okay. I lie. Over and over. I lie. I just look down at the ground and say "yeah, I'm good." The worst part about it is that they all believe me, every last one of them, even the people who know me best. Am I that good of a liar? I want them to ask if I'm okay but yet I lie or get mad when they ask... Depression, anxiety, and being indecisive is not a good combo. It's destroying me.

I have managed to successfully make it through the school day, now I just have to make it for another six hours. I'm at my locker rushing to get my stuff because I can't wait to get out of this place. As I grab my stuff, I look behind me to find him waiting, just waiting. I can't help but smile. We walk out of the school, towards the park.

I kinda hate this park but I can't make up my mind because it holds a lot of good memories and it makes me sad to think of it. Then I think of some of the memories specifically and I realize it's hard to hate something that has that much importance to me. 

Once we are at the park, we just sit in silence, right next to each other, his hand intertwined with mine.


The pain is gone, the sadness that has followed me around all day has simply disappeared into the wind. 

We stand up to say goodbye, he kisses me. He then hugs me and it feels safe, the safest I have felt in years. The tears have started streaming down my face, I don't why, they just do. I leave his embrace and walk quickly, in an attempt to hide my face, which is indeed filled with tears. As I'm walking he suddenly comes behind me. 

"It's okay" he says, wrapping his arms around me as I shake with sadness "it will be okay soon." "No it won't," I whisper back, "it hasn't even begun."

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