second time around // zedd

The Hopeless

Rose's P.O.V.

Tuesday, November 15th, 2005.

San Diego, California, United States.

"Out of the way, asshole."

"Idiot."

"Can't you even understand English? Or are you just that stupid?"

"Fucking bitch..."

These were just a few of the terms I heard every single day in American high school. Since the day I started, 3 years ago, my life has been hell. I was in the 10th grade on this specified date, and I had already been bullied insanely too many times. Throughout my last leg of middle school and my freshman year, I had been called many things, mainly having to do with my nationality - "nazi" and "killer" were among the names - and by this point, I had it up to the neck with these kids. I walked quietly, as usual, to my social studies class and slumped down into the desk. Our teacher wasn't at school that day, so only a few kids were in my class. I daydreamt, about everything, and doodled in my notebook. Dragons, stars, people, places, anything I could think of to take my mind off the torture I endured day by day. My mind settled on one particular thing though - Anton. I wondered how he was doing. I wondered if he had gone and done something he would soon regret. I wanted to call him, to speak to him, to be with him so badly, as I still felt loved by him, but couldn't because of a lack of resources. I wanted him horribly. I wanted him to save me from this wreckage and take me to a safe haven with him. I needed him. But he vowed to see me again, right? I dreamt about that wondrous day. We run into each other on the streets, or in a coffee shop, or at a concert, and we love each other like we've never loved before. Oh man, I couldn't wait for that day. I would wait for him no matter how long it took. I wanted him to be here. I noticed that I kept writing his name in my notebook, but it progressed from normal handwriting into sloppy cursive, which proves how much I was in my thoughts and still in love with him. Soon the bell rang for my next period, and, as I should have predicted, I was met with the floor as someone decided to trip me on my way out, and laugh about it as he or she walked away.

I hated this fucking school.

~

Monday, August 2nd, 2010.

Los Angeles, California, United States.

Sunday, wake up,

Give me a cigarrette,

Last night's love affair is looking vunerable in my-y-y-y bed...

Marina's Obessions couldn't have applied to anyone's else life more than it did mine. That exact same situation just happened to me for the third straight week, and I always found myself slumped against my bedroom wall, with a bottle of some sort of alcohol in my hand, drinking it, mascara and eyeliner running from the overwhelming amount of tears I cried. At this point, I could only say one thing:

My life sucks.

It had been 8 years now since I last saw Anton. I wanted to give up, I needed to give up, but I just...I just couldn't for the death of me. I wrote his name on my arms in a drunken state of lonliness and disheartening so many times that I even considered getting it tattooed on me. Why the fuck not, I thought. I'm nothing anyway. I was the absolute worst nineteen-year-old girl the world has ever seen. Sure, I was in college, working on my degree, majoring in Musical Theatre, but for God's sake, I was so sad. I was sad because my childhood friend still flooded my mind with constant thoughts of love and starting over. I knew he wasn't coming back for me, so why should I even try? I hated myself. I hated my life. I hated everything and it wasn't fair. I repeatedly asked myself, Is this what I've become? A ball full of hate? And it looked to me like I was right. But what was I going to do about it? Absolutely nothing, that's what. I was going to go to the bar again tonight for sure, but I didn't even feel like drinking. I had to get rid of these feelings somehow, and that was the only way I knew to do so.