I close my eyes and feel hot tears running down my cheeks. It seems to happen to me daily, and no one has the slightest clue i'm miserable. But why? I'm rich, I'm beautiful, I make good grades, so why be so blue? Because nobody loves me. That's why. Not even my parents show the slightest bit of affection. I walk in to my mansion everyday saying 'Hi mam!Hi da! Guess what happened today at school. They don't answer. They do not even look at me. As if i'm so treacherous. As if i'm medusa.
The thoughts make me cry harder, and knowing that my parents won't be there to calm me is unbearable. What do I have to live for? I feel like nothing. My parents sure make it seem that way. Sometimes I wish I would rather be beat than for them not to even acknowledge me. Just like I would rather be bullied then to be ignored in the hallways. The thing is is no one wants to talk to me because they think i'm a snobby rich kid and they also don't bully me because they think I would hire a hitman or something. Everyday gets harder and harder beause my troubles just build up and I cannot spill them to anyone. Ever since I was seven things changed drastically. I do not even know what happened. Just one day I found my daily allowance in front of my door instead of lovingly handed down by my parents. Ever since then they havent even looked at me.
I wiped my tears and walked down stairs because I was starving. There plain as day was my dinner on a plate, but no sign of my parents anywhere. I missed their voices so much! I haven't heard them talk in nine years; since that horrible day on my seventh birthday. I shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes in my mouth; trying really hard not to cry again. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't live anymore. Nobody would even notice I was dead anyways. I dumped my food in the trash, put the plate in the sink, and ran upstairs. I was going koo koo over how I was going to do it. I could hang myself, but I had no way of doing that. I could always do the cut your wrist and bleed to death in the bathtub bit. Too gory I thought. I looked out the window for inspiration and saw all the traffic happening outside my window. All you could see in the dark liverpool skies were headlights.
I ran back down stairs and into the cold wet streets. Wearing a blue gingham dress that went a little above the knee. Cars were zooming down the streets at about 60 MPH, and this was the moment of truth. I ran barefoot down the sidewalk to my death sentence.
I then realized what the hell I was doing, and wanted to back out. I tried to sharply turn before it was too late, but I slipped and hit my head. Who knows what came after that.
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