You hold up a hand, trying fruitlessly to stop the darkness.
The black spikes are shooting at you, in your little circle of light.
You can hear whispers among the shadows.
Bitch.
Annoying.
Go away.
We don't need you.
No one cares.
Die.
You sigh, knowing it will win eventually. Still holding up the weight of your world.
You don't deserve to live.
You can stay strong against the words; you've grown up hearing them.
But the hurt is a new thing.
Idiot.
Retarded.
Your slide began... not a long time ago.
The slide, descending into darkness.
The deadly rainbow. The end is death.
Fucked-up.
That is the most out-of-tune shit I've ever heard.
Stop singing!
You're friends with the voices in your head.
They talk to you through the long, sleepless nights.
You have a lot, but sometimes they try to trick you by saying things like 'You can fly' or 'This knife won't hurt'
And then you have to say "I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!"
Bitch.
Shut up.
Worthless.
We don't need you.
"I don't wanna die!"
Die.
Die.
Your crush wrapped her sweater around her neck today, saying "I'm gonna hang myself!"
Your friend said "Good."
Your other friend cheered "Yay!"
And you watched from the pencil sharpener.
Annoying!
You try to be better. You really do.
Stop talking all the time!
You tried to change.
You didn't.
Loser!
Stupid!
Annoying!
You didn't do anything.
You're the weird one who always reads books.
You don't know what Minecraft is.
You're the annoying one who always butts into conversations.
These are your labels, given to you.
You must live up to them, even though that was three years ago.
You remember what broke you.
He shoves you down to the ground, kicking you when you tried to get back up.
Your friend is being held back, because if he wasn't restrained he would 'kill you'.
Are you tired of being the weak one?
You're running, but on purpose letting them catch you.
You're tired of it.
They see you as prey.
You are the prey. Get used to it.
You're so very tired of it, but too bad.
You're not allowed to fight back.
You run as fast as you can, like a rabbit from a wolf. They're hunting you. You panic when they catch you. You don't want to be hurt. Again. You still have all the bruises.
You roll away from the group of people, and get up before they can shove you down.
It's fun to hurt you.
You are the Derpy Hooves.
RUN RUN RUN THEYRE COMING AGAIN
He grabs your backpack, knowing its slung around your neck. He pulls on it, and your breath is rationed.
You are forced to let him hurt you.
That is why you dropped out of the after-school program.
OH THEY CAUGHT YOU HAAAAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAAA!
Now you're gonna pay for running.
The voices in my head think I can fly. They want me to try.
I think I can't fly.
The voices want me to try.
This is the author's note: In no way should you take offense from this, Derpy.
I'm fine :)