Me and my best friend are going through some stuff right now. And it's kinda getting us down. So this is dedicated to us I guess.
No one ever gets me. No one. No one cares that I get yelled at. No one cares how I feel. My mom, she screams at me.
She makes me feel hated, unwanted, worthless. Each time I'm yelled at is like another knife stabbing into my heart. Each stab is another reminder of how hated I am. I don't know how many knifes are in my heart, and I don't know how it can hold so many.
I've tried to hurt myself. But for some reason, I can't. I try. But I can't. Whether it's I can't or won't, I don't know.
I've tried running away from my life, but again it's no use.
I know it's also no use to talk back. Although there are so many things I could help my mother improve on. Like how not to mentally kill me.
It's like she thinks it's all my fault that I'm always getting trouble. She just can't take the blame. It's my fault.
It's like she doesn't even know the effect she's had on me. How stressed and depressed I am. How I cry every night.
How I've thought of suicide. Because of the impact she's had on me. If I was loved by anyone I would be okay.
Just one person. I would be fine. But no. I have to be hated. People have told me that they love me. But to me it's not enough.
I need the person who is supposed to love me, to love me. So all I can say. Soon the cause will be enforced if that's the right word, and the effect will hurt people who do care. The effect will hurt some.
But probably not that many. So sorry. Bye, I guess, nice knowing ya. And that's all you need to know to who used to be Sam Puckett. I'm towards the back of Shady Hill Cemetary if you for some reason want to talk to me.
Wish someone had cared enough sooner.
So how was it? And my friend who this is partly dedicated to, what do you think of it?