This story might have some darker themes later on so all bright and ever-cheerful people have officially been warned. It might have some controversial topics. I encourage you to leave comments in reviews but I would appreciate if you would put it politely and not trash something or someone you don't really understand. If you fail to put it politely, I won't be nice. And since no one wants to see me angry or that bitchy please be nice.
I don't own Twilight.
Read, Review, and Enjoy.
Who am I?
No, I'm worse than pathetic, I'm Kim. Which is by far worse than being just pathetic. Because when you're Kim you get to be obsessed, neurotic, paranoid, painfully shy, and invisible too.
That's right, I'm Kim, the whole package deal.
The other day someone asked me if I was new in town. And the ironic part is that I've lived in La Push since birth.
That's right, I'm Kim, the walking irony.
In fact I'm pretty sure that there are only four people who know I exist. My mother, the librarian, my best friend, and my history teacher.
See what I mean about pathetic?
My mother is obligated to know I exist. After all she gave birth to me, something that she constantly feels the need to remind me of. She feels this is the reason that I should kiss the ground she walks on.
The librarian sees me too often to not know that I exist.
My best friend just knows I exist. Jen expresses that she's all-knowing. Thus the reason she knows I exist. My best friend is… odd. It's better if you don't ask questions.
And lastly the only reason my history teacher knows I exist is because I'm failing history. And the reason I'm failing history is because I sit next to Jared Hillman.
You're probably wonder why sitting next to a guy would cause me to fail a class. Well, I might have this crush on him. And I find sitting next to him quite… distracting. But, it's not like I think I'm madly in love with the guy. I'm not stupid. I just happen to think he's attractive, smart, funny, nice, and that I might like to have him talk to me. Just once.
That's right, I'm Kim the social awkward girl who has a crush on one of the most popular boys in school who doesn't know I exist.
Yes, I'm aware that makes me a walking stereotype.
And, no, I'm not happy about it. I'm not happy about it at all.
In fact, I hate it. I hate it like I hate everyone who has ever run into me in the hallway and forgotten to apologize. I hate it like I hate my father, who thinks I was a mistake. I hate it like the world hates me.
And most importantly I hate it like I hate myself.