Happiness Is Overrated

When people look at me, they see a smart, funny, beautiful girl. I'm not being conceited. Because when I look at myself in the mirror, those are the furthest adjectives from my mind. I see a hurt, broken, and pathetic girl.

My parents died this past summer. It was exactly 71 days ago. I was in the car. I should have died, too. But I didn't and I know it's my fault that they did. I was driving and I took a turn way too fast. It's almost always raining here, in Mystic Falls. And I knew better. But my mom got a call from our neighbor, saying that Jeremy was sick and throwing up. She wanted to get home quickly. Looking back on that day, I feel my heart wrench. I was so stupid.

The first week of school went by in such a blur. Bonnie and Caroline tried cheering me up and supporting me, and I thank them for that, but I don't think I can ever cheer up. I started cutting every night, preparing myself for the long day ahead of me. They started out as scratches but in the midst of my tears, the blood started flowing down my arms. Thank God for long sleeves.

School was an agonizing eight hours of fake smiles and faulty laughter. I couldn't see the point in trying but I had to keep up appearances. Bonnie and Caroline saw right through me. I expected them, too. Everyone else though? Completely clueless.

Matt had no idea something was wrong. I mean, sure, he realized I was doing bad after the events of this summer. He genuinely thought I was doing better. I had to scoff at that thought. I was far from better. I broke up with him a week or two after it happened. We had been going out for two years. I should have felt sorry I was doing it, but when I looked at him, I felt nothing. No emotion ran through me anymore besides the despair and hurt I've felt all this time. He was upset and mad. Understandable. Then he got mean. That's just when I stopped trying.

I still remember the things he called me, the expression he had when he said them. Dumb bitch. Stupid slut. Fucking whore. All of these things that weren't even true. His defense mode was to hurt me after I hurt him. After I've had the worst pain of my life. Sure, maybe I deserved it for irrationally breaking up with him. But that doesn't constitute the childish behavior on his part.

Bonnie was saying something now. I looked over and saw her lips moving, her eyes bright with excitement. Her arms were moving, gesturing wildly. I was afraid she might hit somebody. Caroline's eyes were also excited, nodding raptly at everything Bonnie was spewing. I tried to look interested, I really did. But I just couldn't do it. Nothing held my attention anymore, nothing made me smile. I could never get excited over whatever the hell they were talking about. My social life died with my parents.

Movement caught my attention. I turned my head and saw a guy trying to get a soda out of the vending machine. He was bent over, trying to look up into the machine. He hit the button a couple more times, pounding on it in frustration. A wasted two dollars for a soda. Such a loss. He leaned down again and reached into it, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes caught mine and he yanked his arm out quickly, soda in hand. Don't worry, new kid, I won't tell on you. I was surprised that he continued to hold my gaze, studying me. A blush spread over my cheeks. Never have I seen eyes that were so dark and mysterious. Matt had eyes of the complete opposite nature. Bright and blue. But this kid's were dark, so dark they looked black from here. He finally smiled and nodded, opening his soda and taking a drink.

I wanted to smile, I really did. My lips twitched from the pressure. But I couldn't. I hadn't smiled in months. I frowned and looked away. Disappointed in myself, I went back to staring at my food, half-listening to whatever Bonnie and Caroline were talking about.

Jeremy didn't take our parent's deaths as hard as I did. He was upset. But soon he learned that weed was a great fixer of that. I hardly ever saw him anymore. He walked to school even if I offered him a ride. I'd see him hanging out in the stoner corner of the building, undressing Vicki with his eyes. Granted, she was doing the same. It sickened me. He'd be smiling and laughing, having a good old time. How did he move past it so quickly? Sometimes, I'd wish I could be as carefree as he was.

Jenna wasn't prepared for raising two teenagers. She was only 25 herself, my mom's younger sister. She was clueless for the first couple of weeks. But then she learned to not worry too much. Sure, she was concerned about us, but she let us have our space. She was great to talk to, though. She'd always be there for me when I needed to let my thoughts out. I couldn't talk to Bonnie or Caroline. They just didn't understand. Jenna knew. She lost her older sister. The person who pretty much raised her. She was feeling just as lost as we were.

I turned a corner, keeping my head down, avoiding eye contact. I couldn't stand the thought of meeting someone's pity gaze. I had been getting that since school started. I soon learned to avoid everyone. The problem with that is, I can't watch where I'm going. And I might just happen to run into someone.

Like now.

I looked up, started. And it was the new kid. My mouth opened and shut. I didn't know how to use my voice. His gaze met mine and I stared up at him. He smiled again, his teeth flashing. I turned away and sped down the hall, unable to bring myself to smile back.

He'll soon learn I'm not worth bothering over. I've never been worth much thought.

He'll learn like everyone else slowly has.

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