Ok, this was written by my friend Sherlissa and she wanted a way to get her stories out to the 'people'. and I offered to type it up and put it on my account. So here we are. Please review. And make all the reviews to my friend Sherlissa. Constructive criticism is allowed. R&R PLEASE!!


Walking across campus looking like this was so hard. I look fat. There is a living thing inside me.

Why? My only question that will never be answered.

I get sick and it makes me miserable.

I am only 19. People laugh at me. They talk about me. I have no friends. I could kill myself.

Look at me! This ugly thing with a bulge out stomach. I hate everything I have become.

As I sit here in my room I look at those scissors. How sharp they are. How the light reflects off them as to call me.

Do it.

Just do it.

I slowly stand up. But then my life flashes before my eyes. I could never be who I used to be. Never. Even when I have my baby, I will still be joked. I hope I just lose the stupid thing. I hope it just dies inside me.

I take a step.

The floor creaks.

I see out of the corner of my eye a flash. Someone just sent me an e-mail. I walked over to my desk and clicked. I looked at the message and screamed as hard and as loud as I could.

I can't take it.

I reached over and grabbed the scissors. My hand was shaking. Than I quickly sliced my wrist. Blood gushed out. I hit the floor and just laid there. Crying.

Someone walked in and called 911. They rushed me to the hospital and I was fine.

Why did he have to get me?

Why didn't he just let me die?

I hate him. Anyone else would have left me there to die.

So why didn't he?

My parents came in and I was barely awake.

I lost so much. I just sat there, half awake. The guy who saved me just sat in the corner talking on his cell phone. He was probably telling the whole school. I hate him

The doctor said something but I couldn't hear him clearly. My dad bent down and asked me why I would hurt myself. I looked down at my stomach and just smiled as tears rolled down my cheeks.

They finally let me out a week later and put me in counseling. But I didn't go and I won't. They wondered why I would try and kill myself. It isn't that difficult to understand. I am pregnant. Its that simple.

As I sit on my bed I look out the window. Time raced through my mind like it was a dream. I saw out the window a bird. It was purple with black and whit feathers at the tips of its wings. I looked at the scar on my wrist and remembered the blood rushing down my arm and how alone I felt. How alone and unhappy.

It was the same everyday.

It was time for class and I just didn't want of go. I slowly got up and looked at the door. I walked to it and opened it. As I walked up to my math class, a familiar guy walked up to me. He was calm and seemed to look at me dead in the eyes. His golden brown hair glistened in the sunlight. He started to speak.

"Remember me?"

I started to walk away, because I didn't know him and I know he was trouble. But at that moment I stopped. I remember sitting on the floor bleeding and then…the guy… he called 911. I hated him. I turned around with anger.

"Why didn't you just mind your own business?" He looked confused as I started to walk away.

"Wait." He came up to me again. "What do you mean by 'mind your own business?' If you saw someone bleeding on the floor, wouldn't you call 911 to?"

I smiled sarcastically. "No. I would just mind my own business because they didn't need any help. Maybe they wanted to die!"

He stood there with his mouth opened.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. Why did you come in without knocking first?" He looked at me dead in the eyes again.

"Because I heard a scream. Look I'm…sorry for helping you. I didn't mean to mess things up or anything."

Why am I even talking to this idiot. Why does he even have the nerve to keep on talking to me.

"I just wanted to know if you were ok. That's all." He started to stare off into space. "I just don't understand why you would do that."

I can't believe this guy! He is crazy! He seriously looking at my pregnant belly and asking why I would try to kill myself. What a genius.

"Well as you can see, I am the school slut." I turned around and went to my math class.

Why did he have to follow me. Talk to me. Save me. I hate him. I thought about him and my anger worsened. I felt so mad. I have never hated a guy like I hate him. Why do I hate him so much. Or do I just hate myself.


OK, My hands are in so much pain from typing so fast. Well as I said my friend Sherlissa wrote this and this NOT TRUE! She is 12 for gods sake. Ok Please R&R!