Now that the decision was finalised all I needed was to formulate a plan. It sounds so practical, so formal, so cold. I'm taking my own life, removing myself from this earth full of hate and pure greed forever and all it took was for me to stand out from the crowd. All it took was five people to notice how I didn't match their expectations of what a 'normal' teen was and decide they weren't alright with that. As kids we're told to be ourselves and enjoy the life we've been gifted, to be grateful for the privileges we receive just by being born in this country. That factor alone is forgotten by most as soon as we reach a state of happiness, we ignore the suffering of others to live our own lives to the fullest. I'm not blaming anyone I myself have definitely overlooked others when I have felt that my own needs have trumped theirs. However now I'm in their position I can clearly see that having someone turn a blind eye when you're going through hell breaks you down a little more inside.

Not to say that some people haven't tried to reach out to me, by people I mean the types of teachers who are continously trying to one up each other. Scavenging for some kind of edge over the competition so they can get the most recent promotion. Admitting you've been considering ending your own to someone who is willing for the hour of therapy to end quickly so they can get their hands on the paycheck isn't the most appealing option.

Now the Cullens may not be the most academia of students but they each have their own toolbelt of secret talents, including intimidation, deception, manipulation and although I don't place in in the category of talent , they have money. Above all else money is the thing that held the most power here in Forks. I believe the Cullens know the pain they inflict on me is wrong but I'm sure they think I'll become one of those sob stories you hear years in the future about how I was bullied in school but overcame it and now live a happy life. I know that will not be the case. It's strange to think I'll never reach adulthood, never buy my first car, never write the children's book I always dreamed of. I don't entertain those thoughts for long they let the darker ideas through, for example how my parents will never see me graduate high school, my Dad never having the opportunity to walk me down the isle , my parents never again having the chance of grandkids. No those thoughts stay locked away for as long as I am able to keep them at bay.

Home is where the heart is, right? Well my parents are my heart, now I know I'm undeniable bias but I've never come across a couple more united, more together than them. To put it simply, they complete each other. As a child they always questioned me what my dream for when I grew up was, I have never answered with anything other than an author. As the years flew by they continued to ask each time making sure I didn't give up on my child like hopes. They belived that was how we keep our hearts pure from greed and kept us grounded, to still have hope for the future we wanted before we knew and practiced ideas like jealousy and anger. I just wish I knew I have lived a life like they wanted, no matter how short.

A family of introverts makes us very aware of our surroundings, it's a wonder they haven't already detected what has been happening yet. I don't doubt they're suspicious of why I never even mention school unless to escape detection. Home is my safe haven, safe from glares of disgust, looks of pity and gazes oozing curiosity. Walking the schools halls has become the event of the day, the time to scrutinise Swan's every move, how her flowing hippie clothes and unkempt hair give off the front of someone who lived in the wilderness her entire life. The time to deem which type of abuse she will endure today , maybe physical or emotional, how about both? The physical trauma usually consists of either being thrust into any tough surface available or the indescribable yanking of my below waist length hair. Or if I'm really unlucky they opt to destroy as many of my books as humanly possible. The only upside to this my well known love of books is an easy cover story for my constant purchase of them compared to the black and blue bruises that litter my delicate snow white skin. Rosalie seems to be the reoccurring offender of these attacks however Alice has be known to occasionally part take when she's had a particularly bad day.

Bruises and broken books pale in comparison to the never ending stream of overflowing insults they have for me. To damage another human's body and possessions is one thing but to poison their mind is another matter. Time spent with my parents is like a shield from the negative thoughts that cloud my mind daily, a dome of security that can't be breached by anything. More of my useless time could be devoted to spending my last days with them however with me avoiding any kind of social gathering it is easier said than done. Being out in the open leaves my mind open and vulnerable to the unpredictable thoughts seeping back in.

Although it is rather gruesome I guess I will have to make a choice about what method to use. I think cutting my wrists will be the most successful, my innate fear of water removes drowning from the equation. I've never handled blood well but I'm faithful this will work to my advantage, if I faint as soon as I smell the blood I expect I should be able to pass relatively peacefully. Research is as limited as my resources with no computer and the high risk of being caught using the school's. All I wish for is that my parents find me when I have finished bleeding out, I know a gulity conscience of not being able to save me will reek further havoc than finding me already passed on. At least that's what I wish for.

I'm aware that I'm taking the coward's way out, although considered the circumstances I belive I'm in titled to some leeway on how I choose to escape the hell refered to as my life. My parents raised me to be a pacifist however I'm uncertain my Dad will continue to follow this belief once he finds out why his sweet little girl took her own life. I know that by taking this way out I'm forfeiting any chance I have of a future but I just can't bring myself to listen to logic anymore. My mind is on an unstoppable track with no brakes. Guilt floods throughout me when I reflect on the consequences of my selfish actions, I just hope that the only two people in this world who have shown me what true love is are able to understand why I chose this path. I maintain that this is the only way I'll be able to achieve peace. My life now only consists of a meaningless routine sprinkled with some heartfelt loving moments spent with my parents.

I don't hate the Cullens, I don't feel sympathy toward them either. Recently numbness is the way I could describe how I react to them. Of course they just the sight of them shakes me to my very core but my feelings have been deteriorating along with my crumbling will to live. One of the many things I'm curious to know is how they will react to my death. Smugness that their efforts singlehandedly brought someone to their demise or maybe they just play the mourning classmates for a while them move onto their next target. That's one thought that almost makes me reconsider what I'm about to do. It always gave me comfort that at least if all their anger was directed onto me no one else could be on the receiving end of their wrath. I've never been very religious but I do pray to however is up in the great unknown to keep some of the increasingly sensitive members of the community safe. I can't even begin to ponder the thought of one of those fragile freshman like Ben or Eric falling victim to the Cullens. I've developed a thick skin growing up the shy unassuming bookworm but those sweet boys are just too trusting and easily breakable for their own good.

There seems to be a subtle way to decipher how far each student at Forks takes the Cullen's opinions to heart. The wannabes follow them around portraying the look of an abandoned puppy , they try to create clever insults to back up the Cullen's actions but only fail and seem to spew rejects from the Cullen's pile of humiliating jibes. The majority ignore my existence altogether to avoid any kind of association with the freak and risk isolation from their judgemental peers. There are a select few who I have had to forbid from intervening as not to put their lives on the line. Those who want nothing more than to stand up for me and put a stop to this once and for all. Although it may sound unbelievable but I am capable of standing up for myself and I would have if I truly believed that it would make a substantial difference. Trying to confront them would just add fuel to their fire of hatred for me, it's already burning bright enough to last me a life time.

I've always been hyper sensitive to the people around me and my environment , I was born a month premature therefore there has been distance between my peers and I since birth. I was too fragile to roughhouse with the boys but detested the idea of being the girl's tiny little dolly who they could dress up without her permission. Consequently that just left me observing them, how they communicated with one another, how their body language displayed their hidden emotions so evidently and the ever changing things that seemed to amuse them. They were all open books to me, some just took reading between the lines to understand how they tick. I believe the Cullens are like that, they have hidden stories underneath all their spiteful words. It's just too bad I never got a chance to read them. I know it sounds cliché however I could spent the entire day perched up in a tree branch , my sketch book tucked under my arm taking note of my surroundings and the happenings that occur. If we only took some time out of our hectic schedules to take in the planet we live on we might just appreciate it more. I told you I was raised by hippies.

I'm at great believer in destiny. Maybe it was my destiny to come to Forks and face the Cullens. I hope it was for a good cause like protecting someone who could have been under their control before and with my arrival they were given an escape. Possibly it was so the Cullens could have a release for their rage now then when they grew older they are able to have happy, content lives without this anger eating them up inside. If my life is just a stepping stone for someone to get back in the right direction, to have the chance at a life free of regret but a live fulfilled with hope and love then so be it.

If only my whole body agreed, my gulity conscience has only helped sleep escape me further each terror filled night, now I'm just counting down the days now, two to go.