So, I wrote this when I was feeling really, like, depressed, because I've been thinking about the things I've stated here. Ask yourself this while you read. Does this apply to you? Do you think its impossible for others to feel this way? Well, yeah, its possible. This sometimes applies to me, I get yelled at sometimes, people think I'm a creep, a weirdo, the one person in school you shouldn't hang out with. I have a friend, whose appearance I used to create this character. We had this whole bullying seminar today, and I actually got bullied at the seminar. People called me a weirdo, a freak, not normal. Bullying, I'm sick of it. I want to run away. Start a new image, a new person. Enough about this, I think you get the point. We, as people, may think, 'Oh, I can just tell her she looks ugly and she'll just shrug it off, like she always does.' Well, we don't shrug it off. It builds up and we feel depressed. All my life, I've been known as: the freak, the weirdo, the teacher's pet, the smart one, the crazy person, the socially awkward chick you shouldn't hang out with, the list goes on. Yeah, I'm different than most people. I wrote this because it was supposed to be just an expression of my memories, of how I see life, and I guess it turned into a plot and a story somewhere as it went from my brain to the computer. This is the Prologue, but there will be more chapters to come. All my other OC's from Andromeda Jackson will be here as well, and I hope this may open some people's eyes to what thoughts come to those who are bullied.
Disclaimer: I own the OC's, the plot, and the words here. Rick owns everything else, except Alabaster, whom I may include.
Meet me, Sarah: Prologue
Have you ever had those days when, your life is a wreck, you feel alone, and nobody seems to care about you? Well, that describes my life. My name is Sarah. I'm 13 years old, have darker brown hair and blond highlights. My eyes are a deep brown that people say make me look sweet and passive, but sometimes, just downright creepy. I love to wear black, because it helps me blend in more to the background. I like to stay in the back, but I do want to be noticed. Sometimes, the only way I feel I can get attention, and someone to show me compassion or even regard me as a person, is to weird them out. Everyone thinks I have it easy. I try to be upbeat and happy, but nobody really knows how I feel. I wonder, Would I be missed if I left? Where would all my, "friends," be if I wasn't there? Would they be at the top of the middle school drama chain, or bullied so much that they can't take it anymore? How would people react if I left? How big of a footprint do I leave? I wonder these things, and think, does anyone really care for me? I've always been the loner, the freak. Its hard to feel useful. I live in a house, where my, "Dad," yells at me everyday for no reason, and my mom, never seems to care about me. She thinks that just because I can do some stuff, I should be out in the world, "enjoying life and spreading happiness." Sometimes she wouldn't realize that I'm not normal. She would treat me as a mistake, a thing, not a person. I feel unwanted, unnecessary. If you've ever felt that way, then follow me in my world. A world of terror, hate, and despair. I may find happiness at a new place. At least, thats what I thought last month, when I ran away. I felt, I could do it, get away from the everyday tortures. A girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere, I can make it, right? Well, I still have these thoughts. I'm now in the city of Philadelphia, with my everyday tortures back. At least, I didn't have to go back to the place I used to call home. I hate my life, but I always find someone or something to keep me going.
In my new school, I am a wallflower. People don't care who I am. They don't care that I ran away. They sometimes ask me things about my past, but I never answer. They ask me why I never smile, I just tell them that I do smile, they just haven't noticed. I used to smile. I used to be a person who didn't care what others thought. Now, I just want love, compassion, or sympathy. Over the past few weeks, I had been getting used to my surroundings, then the new kids came. At least, these kids were newer than me. I was the girl who had no friends, nobody paid me any attention, until they came. They changed my life. I am Sarah Jacobs, and I am a wallflower.
