This is a true story:

Her dad was a drunk Her mom was an addict Her parents kept her Locked in an attic

Her only friend was a little toy bear It was old and worn out And had patches of hair

She always talked to it When no one's around She lays there and hugs it Not a peep of sound

Until her parents unlock the door Some more and more pain She'll have to endure

A bruise on her leg A scar on her face Why would she be In such a horrible place?

But she grabs her bear And softly cries She loves her parents But they want her to die

She sits in the corner Quiet but thinking, "Please God, why is My life always sinking? "

Such a bad life For a sad little kid She'd get beaten and beaten For anything she did

Then one night Her mom came home high And the poor child was beaten As hours went by

Then her mom suddenly Grabbed for a blade It was sharp and pointy One that she made

She thrusted the blade Right in her chest, "You deserve to die You worthless piece of s!"

The mom walked out Leaving the girl slowly dying She grabbed her bear And again started crying

Police showed up At the small little house Then quickly barged in Everything quiet as a mouse

One officer slowly Opened a door To find the little girl Lying dead on the floor

It must have been bad To go through so much harm But at least she died With her best friend in her arms

(add this to your profile if your against child abuse)

If you think that Writer's Block sucks, copy and paste this into your profile.

If you think that writing or reading Fanfic stories is fun and addicting, copy and paste this onto your profile.

If you wish that a fictional character was real, copy and paste this to your profile.

Who Am I?

I am the boy...that doesn't go to school dances, and when I do go, I sit in a corner and read a book. I am the boy that people look through when I say something. I am the boy that spends most of his free time reading, writing, or doing other activities that most teenagers wouldn't call normal. I am the boy that people call weird, and a freak either behind my back or to my face. I am the boy that doesn't spend all his time on MySpace, or talking about cars, girls or sex to his friends. I am the boy that hasn't been asked our in a year...or ever. I am the boy that has stopped to smell the flowers and jump and splash in the rain.

But I am also the boy who knows and is proud to be who he is, doesn't care if people call him weird (it's a compliment), who loves reading and writing and doing the things that no one seems to have the time to do anymore, who can express himself better with words, and knows the importance of the little things.

Copy and paste this to your account, and add your name to the list, if you are anything like me, so the people who are different and unique can know in their weakest times that they are unique, but not alone. The First Kitsukage, Dragoon of Time, Jarjaxle, The Patient One, Xomniac, Rebirth25