bluferret: Do ya think this chappie is a bit disjointed? Please tell me...I think it is. Review and i'll send you a thousand dollars! (JK!)

My life is like the worst movie ever made.

Seriously, if my life were to be made into a movie, all the viewers would complain.

"It's so unrealistic!"

"It sets a bad exaple for younger ones!"

"Oh, puh-lease, i've seen worse!"

"What kind of deranged nut wrote this thing!?"

"Hello! Where's the happy ending?"

But, they'd know, deep down, that it was the most realistic movie they'd have ever seen.

They'd know that it was just like thier secret lives.

Just like thier dirty laundry.

But, my life isn't a movie.

So it won't ever happen, no one will complain about realism and life will go on.

Maybe i'll die here, before it gets any worse...

But then i'd feel guilty, leaving behind all those worse off then me.

Maybe I should start a club, the 'I want to die' club.

No, too oblivious.

How about the 'Life Sucks' club?

Or not.
I always feel so unreal when I walk down the streets.

Like, i'm disconnected from everything and everyone.

Like, I am of another species, an invisible species.

Everyone's too absorbed in thier problems, to notice others.

I realize that.

I want to make a change, i've been making a change.
I've been bieng selfless.

I've been helping others.

In a way I don't want to.

I want to throw a fit, I want to scream and shout, I want to cry.

I want to protest, "What about me!? Does anyone care about me!?"

But I don't, I wont, I can't.

It's too dangerous.

It's like asking to be put in a mental hospital.

So instead, I help those in more need then me.

It royally pisses me off, to see them so damn happy in the end.

"Oh, thank you Lil! I finally can sleep at night without wanting to cut myself, due to all the pressure my family has been putting on me!"

Sickening really, especially since I myself still wake up in the middle of the night craving the blade.
Maybe it's just ironic.

The one who helps others, is the one who needs help.

That sounded like I was asking for pity again, didn't it?

Telling my story turns out to be harder then I thought.

I'm not asking for pity, i'm asking for help.
It feels like i'm in someone elses body when I speak, when I walk, when I do anything.

It feels like i've never been myself.

It feels like i'll never be myself.

I don't even know who I am anymore.
I used to adopt peices of others and make them my own.

The way Alice writes her D's?

I do it too.

The way a classmate holds her jazz hands strong yet graceful?

I do it too.

The way Marcia would tap her quill on the table?

I do it too.

The way my cousin says something sarcastic to everyone after they say something?

I do it too.

The way my sister always played with her ring when she was bored?

I do it too.

The way my friend rubs her ear when she's nervous?

I do it too.

The way my nieghbor cracks his knuckles every so often?

I do it too.

I guess you could say that I am insecure.
I remember when I was younger.

I was so assertive, I had so many friends.

I had such happiness, even though my home was crap.

I was truly happy then.

I was able to look through my family's faults.

I wasn't afraid of what others would think, if I wore the latest trend or not.

Lately if you wear the trend, you'll be labeled as a wannabe.

Maybe I don't want to be in.

Maybe I just like the clothes.

I remember when I was nice to everyone.

I remember when I wasn't so heartless.

Sure, I help people, but it doesn't mean i'm nice about it!

I remember when I wasn't pessimistic.

I remember when I wasn't so hopeless.

I remember when I was hopeful.
I have no hope anymore.

Life will go on.

I can't make it better, for it is what it is.

I didn't ask for this life, it came to me.

But that's okay, someone has to live it.

Some are living in far worse conditions then I.

I must always remember that.

For if I forget, then I will be lost.

I have nothing to live for, yet I feel as if life is better then it could be.

Does that make any sense?

It doesn't does it?

Perhaps someday you will understand.

For today, it's okay to be confused.

I am.
There's a light up ahead.

No, it's not a glimmer of hope.

It's the train station.

Today is the day I get to go home.

Home bieng the opposite of what it should be.

This year I intend to be myself.

It may throw my friends, but they'll get used to it.
I no longer want to hide.

I no longer wish to be someone else.

For after graduation, I will be gone.

I will be far away from the hell I once knew.

I will never see them again, so help me merlin.

I will be myself for a change.

I will become who I really am, who I once was.

I will become the girl, that time forgot.

I will become inocent again.

Or so i'll say.
Look at that, I just showed a bit of hope.

Hope that is truly worthless.

I can't just leave.

They are my family, no matter what I say, i'll always feel something for them.

Not exactly love, but perhaps a feeling of remorse.

I think i'll leave after I give them a note and personal good bye.

No matter what they say, that's too bad.

Nothing they say can make up for the loss I have experienced.

For the loss anyone like me has expierenced.

Life may get better, it may not, but what I know is this.

It will finally be my own, my own life.

I will no longer be trapped inside someone elses.

I will finally rid myself from Lil.

I will.