Bluferret: I think this chappie is totally crappie...Tell me if you agree, please!

No one understands why I strive to be so different. No one even tries to. Every day I am different.

It scares them. I notice them cower on sundays.

I feel them laugh with me on thursdays.

I watch them stare on mondays.

I feel thier sympathy on wednesdays.

But, what they don't realize is that it's my code.

My own personal code.

Every day I am someone else.

I sprout a different attitude.

I walk and talk a new lingo every day.

To be different each day, you must be an actress.

If you strive to let people know the real you, if you strive to stand out, if you strive to be your own person, you can't be me.

I am not an individual, I am a slave.

I am a slave to myself.

I'm stuck in a world of chaos, a world where i'm all alone.

A world where no one cares, about who you are, or what you feel.

They think they know me.

They think they care about me.

But, if I were to die tomorrow, they wouldn't miss me, they'd miss someone else, someone they think is me.

But, isn't.

I don't exactly try to hide myself, it just happens.

Like the sunset, it just is.

Often, I wish long and hard for someone to care, for someone to need me.

No one ever truly does.

I'm not bieng ungrateful, it's true, no one needs me.

They need Lil, they don't need Lily.

They don't even know Lily, they know Lil.

Often, I wish upon every star, that Lil would be dead when I awoke.

I loathe Lil, I hate everything about her.

I hate her daily code, I hate her laugh, I hate her nature, I hate her helpfulness, I hate her family, I hate her friends, I hate her boyfriend, I hate her perfectness, I hate her happiness.

I want, I need her to die, I need her to leave my body.

I feel the strain she puts on me every second, but, it's not that easy to change her.

It's not easy to change and expect to be accepted again.

Back, to your friends, back to your boyfriend.

But, they aren't my friends, they never were mine.

They were Lil's, and Lil cannot exist while I do.

I don't feel strong enough yet, to break away from Lil.

To admit my problems, to admit my family's problems.

In all reality, I want everyone to know our dirty laundry, but i'm afraid.

Afraid of what will become of my family, afraid of bieng accepted because of pity.

I don't want that, that's worse then bieng accepted because of your style.

There are people worse off in my school, i'm afraid they'll think I want pity.

I'm afraid they'll think I believe, that I'm worse off then them.

I don't want them to think that, so i'll go on, i'll let Lil posess me for a while more.

I'll let Lil solve others problems, before her own.

That has and always will her way, but will it be mine?

Will it be Lily's?

I don't know.

I don't know if i'll ever know.

My life and it's tragedy, goes beyond my family.

It goes deep down into the depths of my own soul.

I have my own problems.

Problems that at times I can't control.

That at times I feel haunted by.

I feel as if I can never let go of them.

As if I can never find my way back, back to the bliss that used to be in my life.

Might as well say, that I want to be fifteen again.

I don't want to understand the world, as I do now.

I want to understand it as I used to, simple.

My problems engulf me, they swallow me whole and never let me go.

They stalk me around every corner, they stalk me no matter how many miles I go.

They drive me crazy, they won't ever leave me alone.

I am never alone, anymore.

My thoughts, my cravings are enough for twenty people.

I wish it weren't that way, but wishes have never come true for me.

I've been pregnant.

I've gotten an abortion.

I've attempted suicide.

I've been bulimic.

I've cut myself.

I've run away from home.

I've smoked, I've done drugs.

I've gotten tipsy numerous times.

I'm like everyone else in my family now.

Yet, I've never gotten a single grade lower then a B.

Sad, isn't it?

People say that when you have good grades and they suddenly drop, that something's up.

Well, mine have never dropped.

So no one complains and no one suspects a thing.

I'm not saying that i'm proud of what i've done.

But I am not ashamed, I made the choices.

I've never given anyone a reason to suspect me of anything.

That's good for my family, but, is that good for me?

I've tried calling out for help.

I've tried so freaking hard.

I've worn short sleeves the days after I cut myself.

I told my friends the truth, about why I had been in the hospital wing, I stepped off the tower.

I told my friends about how I broke my arm, I threw myself down the stairs.

I told my boyfriend that I tossed my cookies after eating, numerous times.

But, they make excuses for me.

You got a paper cut, you poor thing!

You slipped off the tower, ow!?

Your stomach didn't agree with the food, i'm sorry.

I swear to god and merlin, that they are all blind.

Every summer I go to a phsyciatrist.

My aunt makes me.

I don't tell her a thing.

She's probably listened to 100 people before me, complain about thier crappy lives.

She doesn't need me to add to her collection.

So I lie.

Life is good.

I am happy.

I don't smoke anymore.

She buys it.

I think she's just glad to get rid of a patient.

So I usually go back to my Aunt's a month early.

I usually go clubbing with my cousins.

We are underage, but as long as we pay to get in, they don't care.

More money for them.

I care, though.

I want them to reject us.

I want them to call the police on us.

I want the police to save me from this hell hole.

I want to be a good girl again.

I want to pretend my family didn't make me this way.

But, like I said, my dreams and wishes have and will never come true.