I just write this, for no reason. To be honest. Instead of doing my Economics homework, I'm doing this - lol.
I was listening to 'Therapy' by All Time Low, a song I adore. I recommend you check it out, it will explain this story better. But don;'t just listen to it, understand the lyrics.
This story is different from anything I've done, as this is my experience. My life, my secrets. Guess they aren't so secret now, huh?
A little insight to the writer, aka Me. This is all me, except for one thing..if I met Mitchie Torres aka Demi - I would die.
Enoy, and please review.
I wonder would it help. I mean, it can't hurt...that much.
I wonder how much they actually keep private and how much they tell...I just didn't know. It would probably feel good you know, get things off my chest and stuff.
It was my 5th year in senior school, and I only had three years left. Pressure was mounted on this year, with teachers saying stuff like '86% of last year's students passed their subjects with a C's up to A's'. They told us of how this year would go fast, and how this decided our future.
When my brother passed away when I was in my 1st year, I had definitely changed. I didn't know what suicide was, and I had never experienced it before. But now, I fully understand. An undeveloped, immature mind did not know the impact at what happened. I understood that things would change, that my life would change – but I never guessed I would have changed.
I don't know whether I changed for the worst, or for the best. I first entered first year with the splitting of my parents, loss of contact with my dad due to the split and then after a while, my brother's death. So at my mere age I have experienced more than most teenagers. Not to sound cliché, but I didn't know how to deal with that. Cutting would suffice, and extreme throwing up. Bulimia? Maybe, but it wasn't a bad case. I guess that's what all people like me all say, we never want to say our problems solely for the fact that there is someone out there going through far worse.
I understand now how someone could do suicide, how they feel so bad that they take death into their own hands. I understand. But, I wish I didn't.
I had my two other brothers, older sister, young brother and young sister to keep my mind occupied sometimes. But, as I went through school and my first ever relationship – which ended in disaster, it finally hit home for me that life fucking sucked.
What made it worse at the time was the whole sexuality thing, confused feelings but wanting to change – to be normal kept clouding my mind. I don't think it's pretty normal (or maybe I am wrong) to have a longer list of hot female celebrities than male, but in today's music and acting industry – there is more successful women, so I guess it's down to choice of numbers.
Music. The power of it, is so amazing.
The sole thing that kept me sane, and kept my focus off other stuff. My interest in a specific celebrity group grew, they included Jess Origliasso, Hayley Williams, Alex Gaskarth, Shay Mitchell, Naya Rivera, Taylor Momsen, Julia Pierce, Andy Biersack or Andy Sixx, Kelly Clarkson and mostly obviously: Demi Lovato. To this very day, I know how much I annoy my friends with constant updates of her latest adventures, or fangirling over her voice in certain songs and sometimes, just sometimes, her beautiful smile and eyes. Obsessed is what it is classed as, but how can you explain how someone can mean so much to you, when they simply don't understand?
To them, she is just another 'Disney Princess' gone wrong. But did she really go wrong? I don't think so. She only got better, got stronger, more influential and mostly; got healthier.
Anyway, the whole point I'm telling you this stupid stuff is because I'm sitting in an office, waiting for my appointment time. I decided little over a week ago I would go see a therapist, or as some call it, a 'shrink'. I don't believe in therapy at all in the slightest, I believe it's false but I don't disrespect anyone else who has visited them. My phone was flashing letting me know I had a message. I opened the message to see the group chat my friends were in was flying messages everywhere, they were all completely oblivious to what I was about to do.
I locked my phone again and decided to ignore the messages and plug in my headphones anyway. As I was completely in awe to the lyrics that filled my headphones, I glanced to the side to see a girl there who I didn't see before. She was wearing something similar to me. Converse, skinny jeans and a concert t-shirt. Of course, as she was sitting down, I couldn't see which one. I made a mental note to check once she stood up.
Her phone rung and she groaned, and looked over towards me as my curious eyes looked into her brown ones. She done a slight smile and I looked away, embarrassed she had caught me looking. She was talking like nothing ordinary on the phone, before she seemed to get annoyed at the person on the other side of the phone.
'Eugh Miley, don't call me Michelle. You know I like to be called Mitchie.'
Ah, so Miley must have been calling Mitchie Michelle...even that thought confused me. Miley must have said something smart back, as she dramatically hung up. I smirked slightly as I remembered the similarity to my friends calling me by my real name, Alexandra. Most annoying thing ever.
When I looked up she was looking at me, probably wondering what I was smirking at.
No words were spoken, but the air and room was screaming volumes.
Suddenly, she got up from her seat and walked over to the water cooler – took a cup, filled it and sat back down. I looked at her shirt and it read, 'Paramore'. Internally I leapt as I finally found someone my age who listened to the same music, very hard to find in fact. On the outside, I was cool. I didn't even notice I kept looking at her shirt, until she coughed probably from drinking the water too quick. Quite shocked I was, she must have caught me looking at thought I was checking out her boobs – great. Although, it turns out Hayley was right on point printed with her boobs.
I wondered random things that came to mind before my name was called out, 'Alexandra Russo'.
Cringed at my name, I got up and walked past Mitchie. She definitely knew my name now; maybe I would see her at my next appointment.
I was never an open person, but when my mom collected me in the car and we were going through the streets; I thought of how I had a connection with Mitchie, near immediately. She seemed special, unique even. Maybe I could be open with her. Because let's face it, she was something else. Mitchie. I would see her soon.
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