Disclaimer: I do not own twilight. I'm just using the charachters.
A/N: Hi. This is something thats a bit personal. most of these thoughts are mine in a way, but unique to the story. so, yeah. If you don't like self loathing, turn back now. But if it doesn't but you, go ahead and stay. Thanks.
Rejection is something that you can't get enough of. No matter if you've been accepted, your going to be rejected in one way or another.
No matter how hard you try, rejection catches up with you. Whether it's society, or your 'beloved' peers, friends or family. They can't seem to stop marveling how much you fuck up. Every time you do, they just rub it in your face more.
I already know I'm fucking ugly, why have to say it out loud and make me want to kill myself more? It's nice when a lot of people do it, but when someone you think is different does it, it sure is fun. hint, sarcasm, hint. Especially when that person has been in the room for exactly, lets see... not even a minute?
I needed to get out of here, I am officially becoming sick of these looks people gave me. I know I'm fucked up. I know I'm an ass. Can't someone just hold in their own opinions in for once? Couldn't they just stop talking about the pain In the ass?
Just once, I wish... just once is never what I'll get. People love to make fun of someone whose different. And that person has to be me.
I grabbed my bag and ran the fuck out of there. I didn't do anything to that god-like creature. But, oh no, like everyone else, I have to fuck up, just looking at him, and instantly have another hope of friendship crushed.
The tears started to fall freely now. All those times people look at me like that, and I happen to cry over a single person? Or maybe he's not a person the way he was looking at me.
Do I really smell like my fucking brother? I made my way to my car, my Shelby cobra Kr fastback.
I'm officially sick of this place. The only reason I'm staying here is Charlie. Oh, Charlie. I promised him I wouldn't skip again, but low and behold, I'm the bitch. The promise breaker.
I got into my car and started my baby up. I had lost hope of loving anything else except my car and my father. Let's see shall we? Hmm... Jacob, boyfriend of, 3 years? Had been cheating behind my back with Angela weber. The least suspecting culprit. Ben wasn't the only one heartbroken. Who'd a thunk it? Angela of all people. Thats what you get for having friends.
And then there was my mom. Bitch. The perfect word for the skank. Even though she remarried Phil, she was in deep shit with everyone. She had everything up her ass. From unpaid drug fines, to several DUI charges. Even indecent exposure fines. I don't think she ever wanted to be a mom in the first place. Having sex, and being immature at a young age paid for it.
It's nice to have someone to look up to, and have a role model. Unfortunately, mine is a 1960's pinup by the name of Bettie page. So much for parental role models.
It feels like I'm being watched everyday. Ever bad thing I do, every bad thing I say, anything I do, it's just hell for me to try to do something right, and when I do, people skeptically look at me like I'm a worthless shit.
And it helps, that people think I worship the devil because I don't believe in god. Who the fuck cares? Can't I do what I want, and not be criticized by people in the goddamn town? And besides, they don't have a logical explanation to believe in that fake excuse of something to worship.
I have a reason to think the way I do, to act the way I do. I need an escape from my own mind, an escape from my personal hell. So, why do I have to believe in god, if he's never given me anything worth worshiping over him for? Or was it all those times I've had to suffer? Should I worship him for that? Or should I just basically say fuck religion, and not have a scapegoat to blame my problems on.
Even if people think their mature, they're not. Their continuously blaming go for their problems, and having faith in something/someone that's not real to solve them. Are people that stupid nowadays? Why can't they solve their own problems?
Is it so hard to accomplish something once, and then have it over with?
And my fucking cuts. It doesn't help that people don't believe I have a few cats, and they like to scratch. All they care about it locking me up in an asylum.
I'm too weak at the sight of blood to be a cutter. Sure, I label myself as an "emo-metal head", but thats because people don't understand what emo is.
They think it's just cutting, and wearing tight clothes, but people who are actually "emotional" go deeper then those make believe problem pussies.
And my anger. My anger isn't influenced at anyone particular.. well, not exactly anyways. I'm mad at my mother for having to get knocked up, and bring me into this life.
I'm mad at myself for making everything I do a living hell, and I'm mad at everyone, everyone for criticizing my way of life. I don't criticize theirs, so they shouldn't to mine.
I'm sick of this life. And sick of the fake people who fill it. I'm mad at this mad lifestyle, of having no real home. No place to fit it, no place to be.
I guess somethings aren't meant to be, or to be found in anyway. Everything is just a worthless dream. Every time something goes right, it ends up even worse. "Soon," I murmured to myself. And soon it would be. The destruction of me.
A/N: So, uhm, yeah, the first chapter. Well, thanks for reading, and review please. Thanks.
