AN-This just came about by me trying to dive deeper into Brooke's mind. It's short and hopefully sweet. Enjoy and please review!
Me Oh Lonely Me
BROOKE
You see me, the girl who has it all. I'm rich, beautiful, and popular. But do you see the real me, the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve? Hard to believe since I spend most of my time trying to hide it, cover it, bury it. Why you may ask? I sometimes find myself wondering the same thing. Is it fear, is it hurt, is it because I don't know any other way? Hiding is what I do. I'm not the cheerleader that bounces down the hall with the perfectly coifed smile you see planted on her face. I'm so much more than I let show. I'm Brooke Davis, lonely to the core.
How does someone my age look so cold upon the world? Not having hope, not having faith, living in my own shell. Am I destined to be what I often imagined, the girl who will forever walk alone while everyone passes her by. I want things to be different, but I wonder how. My soul is being crushed and no one cares why. Can I ever really be happy? Will I one day feel what it's like? Is there someone who will make me feel wanted, make me feel special? What I am asking is not too much….is it? Most people don't have to ask for the thing I want most in this world. It's just there for them, surrounding them, warming their very being. Why do I lie in the solitude of cold and loneliness? I'm not asking for a lot. Just once can someone show me what it is to be loved, put me first in their heart?
I bet you probably thought it was something outrageous I wanted. It's not, it's just simple L.O.V.E. It's free. Not some extravagant gift that many would probably think, just plain simple LOVE. I want it. I crave it. Many would be surprised to find I've never felt it. You may say that's impossible. What about your friends, Luke, your parents? I laugh bitterly at that. My best friend Peyton told me she'd love me for life, but she shattered my fragile world without a second thought. She took my chance, my one opportunity I had. I smile at her still, but it's fake like everything else. I'll never look at her the same. I never thought growing up this would happen. We were always so close, so protective of each other, not anymore. She doesn't know, she thinks all is well, back to normal. I have no normal. I don't know if she ever will know my truth. I won't speak of it, but shouldn't she know? What type of friend could do something like that without knowing the damage it would cause? I say not much of a friend. I don't think I have those, another slam of reality in my hopeless face.
Luke, the boy I admittedly looked to as a good time, but I fell for hard, fast, and unexpectedly. I loved him with everything inside of me. I thought we would be together forever. I thought he felt the same, he didn't. He told me I was the one in his future, the one he wanted by his side when every dream he had came true. It was just another lie, another betrayal, another piece of me gone, dead. You see he left me for my best friend, twice. Yeah that one, Peyton. Why is my question, always why? Why wasn't I enough? Didn't I love him enough, show him enough? Did I tell him enough each day what he meant to me? What did she have that I did not? Was it because she showed she needed him more, while I seemed much stronger? Was she prettier because she had blonde hair, blues eyes, while I did not? Was it because she had tragedy, and I seemingly had perfection? Was it because their souls seemed matched, while I seemed plastic? It doesn't matter because he's gone. His future now with "my friend". I hurt, I ache, I cry, but no one knows, hears, or even cares. I'm empty. I am Brooke Davis, so all is well. I am perfection. No scars, no bruises, no hurt. If only they knew.
I bounce perkily down the crowed halls at school. The new me, pretending, acting, perfectly placed. I once again become the girl you know so well. I'm back to my ways, frolicking guy to guy, bed to bed. I'm often called a whore, a slut, easy. It hurts me, but I deal with it by acting as if I don't hear it or see it. I see perfectly into their eyes, the face of each and every guy as they approach me. He doesn't want to know me, see the girl that I am. He doesn't want to take me on a date, be a gentleman, and treat me with respect. He doesn't want to show me that I'm special, that I'm worth it. He's wondering what line he can give me. What plot he can use, whatever it takes to find his easy lay. I don't fight it. It hurts too much. I give into his not so hidden agenda, making every rumor, snicker, and gossip behind my back true. Their winning, I'm losing. I'm letting them win so easily. I always lose a game that I never asked to play. That's me Brooke Davis, a loser at love. You'd probably say if I know this, then why? Don't I care? Of course I care, but I want to feel something, anything. Why do I subject myself to this? That's the easiest thing I could probably tell you. I have control. I'm in charge. My body is the one thing I have. So I let them use it, use me to gain their pleasure. I lie beneath another faceless guy whose name I can barely remember. I know it starts with a B, Bob, Bill, Bryan. I'm dying. I can't stop it, I just can't. I'm so lonely. I'm silently screaming for help. I'm crawling, scratching, fighting for something real. Deep down I feel my soul piercing that last realm of emptiness. Maybe, just maybe one of these days, one of these guys will give me what I need so desperately. He'll love me…..I hope. I know it's not true. I try and convince myself. It's useless, I'm empty, and I served his purpose.
I continue to lie alone in quiet, my only real peace. My heart aches so much it burns. The silent tears stream so slowly, almost hauntingly down my flushed cheeks. I wonder if this is some cruel joke that maybe I am not in on. Was there such a thing as other lives? Did I betray it, damn my soul through eternity? What had I done to deserve this living hell of being unloved? It's my cold hard world I live in.
How could I not be loved? Was I really surprised by this, I'd have to tell you NO. It's a bit sad when you expect something so tragic. That's what I have been given. I mean if my parents didn't love me, who would? I know you think it's another exaggeration by me, it's not. The truth is I can't remember if my parents ever said those three simple words to me. It would require them to be present in some capacity of my life. I have been raising myself with the help of my maid Rosa for as long as I could remember. My parents don't care about me. No one cares about me.
It's hard to care about yourself when you come to the realization that no one else does. I was the creation of two selfish souls who brought me into a world of empty loveless loneliness. I'm dying. I'm clinging desperately to any hope of the future. It's not bright. Why doesn't anyone love me? Am I not worth it? I just want to scream for love. Sometimes I wonder why god would put me here to be miserable, I'm alone. I feel useless again. I'm drowning in myself. Why am I here, to be a desperate shell on the brink of madness? I hate it, I hate it all. I'm dying. Please someone pull me from my sinking despair. Save me from the isolated hell of detachment I feel all around. I don't want to feel this pain anymore. It's eating me, destroying me, keeping me alone. I beg, I plead, and I breathe. I want someone to see, just anyone. I don't want this girl, me oh lonely me.
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