Author has written 93 stories for Skulduggery Pleasant series, Ouran High School Host Club, Big Time Rush, Glee, Victorious, Teen Titans, She's the Man, and Sherlock.
Guys, I started this at, like, 10pm, an then suddenly I looked up and it was 4:02am and there wasn't anything left to read. If you want to learn to write basically any genere, you should check it out. Like, wh read anything else?
NEED AN EAR?!
Okay, so for the life of me... I don't want to be an out of reach author. Seriously... I want to talk with all of you. In that spirit, I know exactly what it's like to have a bunch of secrets and stuff bottled up that I either honestly can't or feel like I can't tell anyone else. So if you ever need a nameless person to just spill to, I'd LOVE to be there for you.
However, depending who you are, you might want different responses, so in your subject line if you wanna PM me, just type in what you want me to do for you. Like... if you want advice, write "advice" up there. (Although, I'm not very great at it in my opinion... others don't always seem to think so, though...) If you want a response, put in "Reply", and if you just want to forget about it, just type in "Forget", and if you want prayer along with any of them, just write "Pray" afterwards.
Easy? Awesome. Can't wait to hear from you!
So, I thought of a cool challenge. We all dig into the lives and emotions of our favorite characters, but what about ourselves? So here's the thing. It took me a while, but I did some soul searching, and I came up with some stuff I didn't know about myself until I really looked. So now it's your turn! Post it on your wall, send it here, whatever. Post it. And if you get a little emotional along the way, it's okay. I was a wreck when I wrote mine. I sort of realized how tired I was, and it really got to me.
People don't see past the non-existant height and the baby face. They just see a four-year-old and don't even think about having to try to see anything different, so why try to be? Pigtails, constant excitement, always acting hyper, asking question after question... why not? People are happy with face value, so she'll give them that.
It doesn't matter that she's older or that they're in the same class. No one seems to care that she has a 4.3 GPA. She's "cute". She's "honey", and "sweetie", and "adorable". Sure, almost everyone likes her, but they don't like her. They like what they made her. It's not like she fought it, like she resisted. She likes being cute. She likes tilting her head up at people, giving her best smile, and getting a pet on the head just for looking little.
So who cares that they talk to her in the same voice they reserve for puppies? Who cares that everytime she gets and A it isn't "You're so smart", it's "Awwwww! You're so smart, honey!"? Who gives a crap that, instead of a leather journal and colored pens, she got a bunch of stuffed animals for her birthday? That's what she gets, that's what she's always gotten. She's not her, she's just... her.
She's tired. She gave in. She conformed, and look where it's gotten her? Friends who think of her as their tag-along, peers who forget she has a brain, people who paint a picture of her that's all wrong.
She has a brain, and an opinion, and a voice. It's just... hidden under what everyone sees first. For so long she's just been this person, the real her only seen when her face wasn't, and it's not like she can turn back. She likes both sides of her. She likes that cute little girl who everyone wants to hang out with. That's the biggest problem, though.
She wants to be what everyone else wants. Not be her like she pretends, but to truly be her. To not have to act, but to not be who she really is. What if no one likes the real her? What would she do if she pulled away and stopped faking? Behind her batting blue eyes is a part of her that no one has ever seen before, so how would they react? Looking in the mirror, she sees her. Looking inside herself...
She sees me.
She's so strong, so secure, so indestructible. She stands up to teachers and bullies and never ever gets scared. She would never let anyone treat her badly or change herself to be popular. She's bulletproof, and everyone knows it.
She's not a mask or a piece of armor, she's part of you, she is you, but at the same time she's not. There was a time, before you knew that you were so horribly different from everyone else, when she blended into you seamlessly, when she was a trait instead of an entity.
It wasn't one big, traumatic event. It was the little things; it was no one wanting to play with you at recess, it was the bigger kids stealing your snack money, it was teachers never listening to you. She came out, little by little, and the most amazing thing happened. No one messed with you anymore, no one had the guts to talk down to you or call you names. They finally left you alone.
She grew every time a teacher sent you to the corner for saying something they didn't want to hear, or a group of kids wouldn't let you play because you were weird. She got bigger and stronger until even adults were wary of pissing her off. You could wrap her around yourself like a blanket and not have to fight for awhile.
She's not mean, never mean, because she is a part of you and while you're certainly explosive, you don't have any mean in you. Well that's not true, you can be pretty viscous when you're protecting the people you care about, but you never go all out. That's what scares you, letting go. You always hold back, because there's a place way down inside you that's bigger and scarier than even her. There's a little tiny piece of you that's just pure white hot destruction, and you know that if you ever lose control of it that everyone involved will get burnt.
You don't have anything that even remotely resembles a hard life. You have parents that adore you and a few good friends that you're positive will stick around, but you still need her. She doesn't just shield you from the world, she shields the world from you. There's fire in you and it's what keeps you alive, it's what fuels you and it's what makes you great, but it's also what makes you toxic. That's the thing about fire, it's life and death, creation and destruction, love and hate. You have it in you to create and save people and change the world, but there's also that part of you that could just as easily destroy it, that could turn everything around you to ash.
You're terrified of getting hurt, of letting someone in and being betrayed, but more than anything, you're scared of what might happen after that. You aren't just passionate, you are passion, a big ball of explosive emotions, and you don't want anyone to ever find the fuse.
That's what she's for, she's a false trigger, producing a bunch of tiny, inconsequential explosions that warn people away. She protects you, but she protects everyone else too. When people think you can't be hurt, they stop trying. You're not bullet proof, and neither is she. She's riddled with holes and cracks but no one sees them, and as long as no one sees them, they might as well not even be there at all.
There's this girl I know. She's a complicated person. I don't really understand her all too well. She's quiet yet loud, she's tall yet small, she's cute yet ugly, she's sweet yet annoying, she's sad yet happy. She's weird. She's a target.
No matter what she does, no matter how invisible she tries to make herself, she is a victim of one of the saddest tortures known to man. Bullying. She has always been picked on. It started small with two people saying she was ugly but as the years went on it escalated in to something bigger. Before summer was her first year of higher senior school (high school) and that's where it all got really bad. It wasn't two people anymore. It was everyone. No one would sympathize or tell anyone to stop, they just watched and laughed. She wasn't seen as a person but as a toy. A toy that her tormentors felt they could twist and warp and break without any damage. But every blow leaves damage. She couldn't think of any way to stop it, she tells a teacher, she's a rat, she yells at them, she's insane. There was nothing she could do but ignore it. But suddenly, she has this burst of courage. A new found confidence that baffles her tormentors. She fights back. She gives as good as she gets, maybe even better she says what's true and what the bullies need to hear like 'Yeah, I am ugly. But you know what? School is about LEARNING and EXPANDING your mind. Not about looking good. I go to school to improve myself, you should try it sometime.' Or 'Yes I'm weird. I actually like it. Your telling me I'm not a brainless zombie that follows the crowd to be accepted by people I don't even like. Thanks for the compliment.'
And you know what? It all went away. She was finally left alone. But at what cost? What does every hit show? Damage. She was and still is today, damaged. A damaged girl that is constantly paranoid that when she hears someone talking about an unknown person. A girl that thinks twice about everything she does so she doesn't risk being laughed at. A girl that worries about every single little mistake she makes in case it sprouts more bullying. A girl that now thinks she's ugly, annoying, weird, a freak. A girl that will never be the same girl she was once.
But this quiet, timid girl also had secret. People say the internet is a web of lies and danger but to her it's a saviour. She facebooks friends that don't go to her school, she posts drawings on deviant art and is praised and complimented. She makes friends. She post new chapters and stories on fanfiction and is praised and complimented. She makes more friends. People don't put her down or belittle her. They praise her and build her confidence. Maybe that's what gave her that new found courage? She really doesn't know. She just hopes it'll last. She just hopes that next year she will be able to repel the bullies once more. She hopes she can keep her internet life to herself, as always. She hopes no one will realize it's her. She hopes she's happier in year ten (tenth grade).
She's me. I am that girl. I have never been able to really define my life till looked at it as another person. I have two personalities. They stay straight apart. I'm miserable. They clash. I'm confident. I don't even try and define THEM anymore. What am I? Why am I teased? Why am I tormented?
Because I'm me. Me and no one else. I'm different. And some people just can't handle that.
Why am I not teased anymore?
Because I don't care anymore. I don't care what people think and I'm just me. People just can't understand that these days.
Shes Scared,but she's strong , She looks happy when she's sad, see covers it up because they wold say something,She wont say anything be cause of them, They molded her and sculpted her until she was their own creation ,then tossed her aside like trash, and that's exactly how they treated her, their own creation now a monster, she became invisible to her teaches as well as students, the bruises they gave her were paid no attention to by the authority except of course her parents who had done their fair share of cursing the school out, She dodged conversation in hallways, hid in her locker until they left,She hated them they hated her,But then One day changed all of that, She looked at them strait in the eys and said." I am human, much like you i am smart enough to realize that school is over in three years and you will be powerless in fact i may need some test subject if your burger flipping job won't work out." and with that they left her alone,she had proven that she was worthy, and now in Argentina she is her own person no one will change that.
WAITING TO GET OUT OF HERE's
She's indestructable. Cruel, harsh, brutal and everything inbetween. Those who know her are slightly afraid, and those who don't act as though there's one of those signs, like by the tigers at the zoo.
When you get her as a partner on a project you're dubious, worried and nervous, but glad, because she'll do her bit. And when it's all over you breathe a sigh of relief, because she's unpredictable, a volcano ready to erupt. You don't say the wrong thing, because if you do you might find yourself on her bad side, and that's not a place you want to be.
People will look at her, and those few, few friends she had and be shocked.
How can they talk to her like that? Why isn't she snapping, or yelling, or cracking out viscious sarcastic comments, one by one?
That's because when she tries, the redhead, the one who knows her will look at her with that expression that says Cut the crap, I've watched you cry yourself to sleep, and you don't scare me.
And then there's them. That girl, the lioness, has from the beginning divided everything into us and them. Black and white. Worth my time and irrelevent. It sounds awful, and rude, and mean, but that's how she is. If you're not nice to her, or anyone around her, then you're not worth the time and effort it takes to put on the happy-mask and smile, exchange pleasantries.
There are many things she dispises, not the least of which is injustice. Every day she must watch the weak of heart go after the weak of self-worth, hurting them again and again until they shatter. And then they just walk away, scott-free, laughing over their victory, their horrible, inhuman victory. It's not a victory, to destroy another human. So she'll go after them, claws out, and fight until they're forced to feel what their victems felt. And she'll smirk; a cold, satisfied type of half smile, half grimace. Because if no one else will give justice, she will.
In her eyes, you reap what you sow, and even if it must be by her hand, everyone will receive their just desserts.
And then she goes home, back-talks to her parent and grandparent, scoffs at her sister (Princess, she thinks bitterly. Where did she go wrong?) and storms down to her room, turning the music up to drown out the world.
It's a travesty she doesn't know how to be Real-Alice all the time.
The girl tries her hardest, she really does. And people praise her all the time, yet she never feels good enough. She gets good grades, never gets in trouble, and hardly speaks out at all. Quiet and reserved are this girl's middle names. If she's ever loud, there's a good dang reason for it.
The problem with this girl? She's a complete idiot, but she's an intelligent genius. She's totally ugly, yet she's really pretty. She's such a loser, yet everyone thinks she's great. She's everything people say she's not and more.
She'll be judged if people knew, though. That's why people don't need to know; that's why they really shouldn't.
She's so strong because she's been through so much. People don't even know how she's been through. The girl keeps most of her life a secret.
You see, she's two different people. She's a mature, respectable young woman. She's the kind of girl that parent's want their daughters to be; kind, smart, generous. Then, she's a reckless, cruel child. She's mean, sarcastic, and someone her parents should be ashamed to have; bold, stubborn, distant. Two different minds, only one body.
And this is the girl everyone sees at face value. If people want her to be perfect, then she'll put on a show for them. She'll let her strings be pulled, her controls be tampered with.
Because that's who she, I mean I, am.
Hey. So I read your Challenge and decided to do one. Can you please post on your profile?
They only see what they want to see. They see the tall, protective brunette girl. They see someone with a 4.8 GPA. They see the band kid and the singer in her.
But what about what they don't see? They don't see the broken, beaten little girl who hides in corners. They don't see the scars, mental and physical, that criss cross her mind and flesh like a map. They can't see the tears she cries alone in her room. They don't see the hidden secrets that lie just out of reach.
Her parents seek the perfect daughter. So she gives in to society and forces herself to be what her parents want. She smiles. She laughs. She brings home a boyfriend now and then. She works hard for good grades and participates in her extracurricular activities.
But conformity brings her a price. She doesn't eat for fear of gaining weight. She creates mental personas, one for every person she is and who she tries to be. The happy one, the shy girl, the artist, and the silently abused. They all fight for dominance in her. She always succumbs to the first, making everyone around her happy.
But when she is alone, the whole façade fails. She cries her eyes out and screams into her pillow. She looks at pictures of her "boyfriend" and rips it up. She is sick of pretending to be the perfect little straight girl her parents so desperately crave.
She looks at the scars on her wrists and then up to her mirror. Her reflection looks back at her a stranger in her body; her brown eyes filled with pain and sadness. She looks deep into the intruding eyes, passing every person she's ever tried to become. She throws them away, one at a time.
She slams her eyes shut. She opens them and is shocked to see a new face in the mirror.
Instead of the sad, scared and beaten girl from before, there was a tall, confident and strong girl in her place. The girl smiled and stood in front of the mirror. She smiled as she walked away.
She's pressured to be perfect. Smart. That's all she needs to be to please anyone. It doesn't matter if that's not what she wants. All that matters is she studies to no end, becoming smarter. But she does as she's told, because if they are happy, she is.
It doesn't matter that they think her dreams are pointless, that she should do as she's told. They want her to grow up and become a doctor or even a pharmacist. It doesn't matter that she want to work with children as a teacher, it only matters what they think.
Her friends see her as someone who always tries to over-achieve. It doesn't matter that she's forced to study grades ahead. All that matters is that she's pleasing others.
Who cares when she gets a low A, it's not a "Good job" but a "Why not a 100?" When it's a hundred, it's always, "Was there any extra credit?". It doesn't matter that she doesn't love school, she tries her best at everything.
Her friends see her as a coward. Always scared to take the risk, never breaking the rules. It doesn't matter that she has never gotten in trouble by anyone other than her parents, that she's scared of them.
They don't know that she takes everything to heart. That she has trouble forgetting mean words and words of hatred. She can still remember all the people who teased her, she never forgot. They joke around, insulting her, but they don't know it bothers her so much that it keeps her up at night.
It doesn't matter that her relatives treat her differently because she's the older sibling. They expect her to know everything, do everything even when she's not told to. So why does it matter anymore? It's not like people will like her for who she really is. She'll always be known as the smart girl who everyone likes. But, that's not her.
She's never herself. She's always what everyone else wants to be, never herself. She tries hard to please everyone, but it's hard. Being smart, athletic, sweet. It's hard to be what everyone else wants her to be. But she's making everyone else happy and looking around at the happy faces, she feels happy as well.
The girl walks past a mirror, briefly glancing at the reflection, not even getting the chance to look at the whole reflection. But, what she does see is me. I am that girl.
BTR OBSESSED FAN's
Everyone expects something right? It's kind of Ironic... Everybody says be unique, be your self... but right now, we live in a society that doesn't care about originals, you need to be a copy just to fit in.
She wakes up smiles and takes in a breath waiting to be pointed at, nobody sees past that smile, the smile that hurts her inside, she refuses to cry, thinking maybe one day It will all change.
She likes helping and when she's out there she feels proud of what she is, thinking that maybe she saved a life with her caring words. It was the only place they heard her.
What people thought? A faze! It always was. "she's growing up" they say... but in reality is who she is, she dreads the moment where she is closed in those doors and the only thing she can do to free herself is write.
She looks around and feels scared. Scared of being rejected, everybody just says she's...nice! is that all she'll ever be? Gullible? Maybe, probably... For all she is going threw and what she thought was her complete life... She's seeing it crumble but she won't admit it to herself.
She just wakes up with a smile on her face waiting to see what new things they can say about her... She won't be anything in life? She'll be a failure... but she just looks down waits for it to end and goes in her room and cries... where no one can see her.
She's tough... She's Happy... she's fine being herself... but she can't handle how people walk through everyday life without making a change... and it hurts her... she's scared... of her future. If it is how it is right now how is it going to be a few years later?
This made me think of how i really feel and it made me feel in a way relieved
She is just that girls "sidekick." She is pushed around and doesn't get a say. Heck, that girl calls her a "lost puppy." She follows her around and listens to every command; she would be lost without her.
She is also a brilliant girl. She gets outstanding grades in all her classes. She can get through school in a breeze, all while still having fun. She goes around school, everything is ok; she is a bit hyper though. Some people don't like her because of that, but they don't understand her.
Nobody looks into her life. Nobody looks into the possibilities of why she is the way she is.
She actually is a strong girl that could most definitely get through life on her own, not being a lost puppy. She knows how to care for herself. Anyway, she doesn't need this. She doesn't enjoy being pushed around, but for some reason she can't push herself away. Maybe it is because of the fear of being socially rejected, or maybe she just has hope that their friendship could grow.
She struggles with school. She has to work hard to get her good grades. She spends hours studying in her room, trying to grasp the information. Nobody understands the agonizing hours of sitting and reading. And yes, she is hyper. But nobody knows why. It is because she is trying to mask the pain. "What pain?" they would probably say.
Her mother works two jobs, while her father is retired. She rarely sees her mother anymore. A couple of years ago, her father had cancer and she is still afraid of loosing him. Her oldest and most caring sister lives 4 hours away. Her next sister is working all the time and doesn't need to have a teen on her hands. The other two are 8 and 6, so they have are no help. She feels like she has nobody to go to. But what is there to get away from? Those times when her mom is home are usually taken up fighting. Her father is always home, but he can't do it on his own. He didn't realize how much it pained her when he said, "What did I ever do to have to go through this?"
Nobody understands her. She has done stupid stuff before that she will regret for the rest of her life. She hates it when people talk nonchalantly on these subjects, because she takes them to the heart. But all she does is plaster that same fake smile and walk around like there isn't a care in the world.
She sometimes wishes that somebody can understand her.
But only she can understand herself.
There was this girl I saw one day. She was hard to understand. She seemed tough, yet over-sensitive. Quiet, yet very, very loud. She was pretty and ugly, sweet and sour, nice and mean, and funny and annoying, all at the same time. She seemed to be opinionated, but when you tried to work a point of view out of her, her lips were sealed.
Everyone judges her. She's the super smart girl, who finishes the whole week's math homework on Monday and always gets A's. But, she's also the drama queen, who takes everything too seriously. Sometimes you hear of her as the rebel, who always does things different, when in reality, everyone has already done what she does. She's be called Ke$ha, for sparkly converse, or sporty, for wearing sweats, tennis shoes, and no makeup when she felt tired. She is also seen as the artist or musician, always creative and imaginative. Everyone knows she isn't the sportiest, but she's o.k. with that. If people are lucky, they will see her as a writer, but that's the closest to her true self that even her best friends have seen of her.
She tries to keep herself guarded. She tries to be strong, unbreakable, with guarded eyes, and a guarded heart and soul. She doesn't even fully trust her two closest friends, because she did once, and they've both betrayed her. But sometimes her cover, her protective shield, slips and you can see the raw emotions swirling in her dark chocolate eyes.
None of her friends try to truly understand her. If they actually tried, they would know that she's a dreamer, someone who wants to be able to change the world with just one word written by her pen. She wants to be someone who can make a difference, not just a random face in the crowd. But, no one in the whole world knows this side of her. The real girl is buried under the only half-real personality she has put up as her armor. This is the side of her that signed up for FanFiction without her mom knowing, and spends late nights reading and writing FanFiction stories after she smuggles her laptop into her room. She finds a way to get lost in the characters and starts to feel like she knows more about them then she knows about herself. But this is her most guarded part. She hates it when people read her personal writing, the sort of writing that comes from thinking about the world, or just what life means in general. This is her true self, the one that she hides away from the world during the day, but the personality comes out at night.
One day after school, she saw a girl sitting against the outside school wall, leaning her head on a guy's shoulder, while he rubs her back. She's heard about the couple, and everyone says they are really happy. But when she looks at them, she feels like someone stabbed her with a knife and then twisted it. She aches to be wanted like that, to be loved like that, and to be needed like that.
She hates injustice. It just doesn't seem right to her. She can't look at someone she knows that is bullied without feeling guilty about being a bystander. She wants to go tell the teachers, but she knows that she will never, ever, ever have the courage for something like that.
She tries to fit in, she really does. And it works. But somehow, conformity doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel real. She has to watch her back all the time and be careful of what she says. She starts getting sick of lying to try to fit in, because it makes her feel horrible to lie to all the people she knows.
She feels like letting the tears flow when she hears her parents argue. Every day, they fight over something. It could be anything, even the smallest things set them off. It breaks her heart to hear her mom say, "I regret marrying her father." Whenever those words reach her ears, she grows more desperate, and has less faith in true love. People don't realize that her home is so broken.
Do you know where I saw this girl?
In the mirror.
That girl is me.
And I don't like what I see.
So, I put on my makeup—foundation, eyeliner, and lip gloss, and try to use it as a shield so no one can see the real person inside, or hurt me with their poisonous words.
Isn't it better to just hide who you really are, and then hope and pray for someone, anyone to find you?
She's a wallflower. She doesn't get in people's way, she doesn't try to get into other people's business and she doesn't try to start drama. All she tries to do is succeed. She tries to get good grades, to be the best actress she can be, to make her mother proud. She knows that she's good at her acting, the one thing that she knows for sure she's good at. But she knows that her mother looks at her and expects greater things from her, things that her mother was never able to accomplish.
So she works. She works hard and she doesn't stop working. She doesn't let herself take breaks. She works on her homework, on her lines, on her music, on her writing. She never takes a break, not even to sleep. Her dreams are filled with story ideas, songs, the latest topic in her History class. Taking a break isn't something she knows how to do. When she has nothing to do she doesn't know how to deal with herself. She doesn't know how to be happy when her time isn't occupied with something.
She talks to herself. It's her desperate attempt to not go crazy. She pretends she's other people. People with different lives, with more hopeful futures, with happier tomorrows. She loves her family but hates her everyday. She wants something new to happen. She wants something to happen that isn't ordinary. But, the one time that that did happen, she broke down. She didn't know how to handle the sudden change. So, she lives day by day, going about the same routine and trying to act like the happy girl that everyone knows her to be.
Her mother, her teachers, herself. Everyone is pressuring her to be perfect. To not let her opportunities slip away. Teachers tell her that she's brilliant, a wonderful student and actress. She could make it big. She should audition for acting schools. She wants to. It's her dream. She's going to. But they don't realize that she'll do that on her own. They won't let her have a life. All she wants is a chance to make her own decisions. But if that actually happened, how would she handle it? How would I handle it? I don't think I'd be able to. I'm that girl. That scared and confused, yet strangely confident girl. I know what I want to do. I know that I'm going to do it. I just don't know how. Yet.
You don't remember the day you met her. You can't pinpoint the exact moment you fell 'in love' with her, or when you fell out of it, or when she became like a sister to you. Well not really like a sister at all, because she's still hot and you still desperately want into her pants, which isn't very brotherly. But other than that, your feelings for her are completely platonic, and you aren't sure when that happened.
With the huge impact she's had on your life, you should remember these things. Aren't people supposed to remember the turning points in their lives? The day you met her should be ingrained in your memory, but it isn't. It feels almost wrong that you don't remember the details, like you're somehow being ungrateful by forgetting.
You should remember more about her, her, what's her name? Why is she all you can think about? There are other people just as important, but there's a sense of urgency attached to her, like there's something in particular you're supposed to remember. What's her name?
What's your name?
When she smiles, everyone smiles. When anyone looks at her, all they see is a droplet of sunshine, brightening up the day. She brings happiness to people she doesn't even know. That's why they'd be surprised to find out how broken she is. People don't know that she cries herself to sleep every night. They don't know that, when no one's looking, she grabs a pillow, hugs it to her chest, and let's the tears stray. They don't know anything about this girl.
This girl, who has such a bright exterior, couldn't be any more broken. She desperately tries to hide herself from everyone. After all, ignorance is bliss, right? That's what she tries to tell herself, anyways. She knows she shouldn't feel like this- she shouldn't want to kill herself, right? But everyday, it hits her like a ton of bricks. No matter how many times it's happened, she's always sidelined by this thought.
She doesn't even mean for it to happen, it just does. She could be doing anything, and it just suddenly pops up. This thought just makes her even more depressed. Depressed? It's another thought that seems to come out of nowhere. It leaves her winded. Depressed. She can't say she's never thought about it before. After all, normal people don't usually want to die.
When it first happened, she thought she was just having a bad day. She didn't know what might've happened to make the day a bad one, though. Either way, she let it roll of her shoulders. It's not like she was insane. Everyone had these days, right? Even while she asks herself the question, she already knows the answer. No, she wasn't insane. She was just different. That's what she'd like to think.
She never liked being different. It made her feel weird. Abnormal, even. It made her feel like an outcast. Maybe that was the cause of these thoughts. She just wanted to feel accepted. She's not sure.
By now, she realizes that she can't even address herself. This girl's always thought of this as something that made her unique, like a trait or something. She never really thought of it as an abnorlmality. Never once has she addressed her self as "I". Nothing is "My", it's "Her". It's her life. It's her depression and- oh! There's that thought again. Depression. Is she depressive? Her subconscience seems to think so. At the end of the day, though, she just moves on. Sure, she burns herself and she knows she shouldn't. She just does. But, it's her. There's no explaining it. It's just the way it is. And honestly? She wouldn't change it for anything.
Do you see that girl over there? The girl smiling and giggling? The girl
People think she's carefree, doesn't have a thought in her head. They see her
They push her around. Force her to do things she doesn't want to. Tease her.
People remain oblivious to the fact that she is in honors classes, that she is
She has no one she can trust. She keeps to herself. She has a million and one
The friends that she does have are amazing. They mean the world to her. But
She's very self conscious. If she hears someone laughing behind her, she
Her parents aren't any help. All they care about is how she does in school. If
They crush her dreams. She wants to be a singer or an actor.
They say,"In India, people are doctors and engineers."
She wants to find that special someone.
They say,"In India, people have an arranged marriage."
She doesn't want to be what she was made into. She wants to be her. Not what
See that girl over there? The girl smiling and giggling? The girl in a