Sitting on my bed, I couldn’t help but think about how shitty my life is, and how shitty I am. I hate everything, what an impression the world has left on a teenage girl. I’m so cynical, it’s not even funny. I feel sorry for the people who have to put up with me, I’m not exactly what you’d call optimistic and I lie all the time. I push people away; I don’t get close to people. But, they don’t understand, I lie and push people away because I’m protecting them.
Why would anyone want to get close to me, anyway? I’m nothing but trouble; a burden on their lives. I hate myself. Too many times have I sat in bed at night and counted my flaws from head to toe. My biggest flaw is my name, but fixing that is out of my control until I’m eighteen. Although, even then I’d think of it to be too big of a hassle. And, then there’s my hair.
My brown hair that has been dyed so many times I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen out yet. It's been pink, blue, green, blonde; you name it, my hair has been it.
It's back to it's natural colour now though; I’m giving my hair a break. I was thinking about cutting my hair up really short, so that it can grow back healthy. But, I soon ruled out the idea. I’m too used to having my hair almost touch my belly button, it just wouldn’t feel right.
I thought some more about how alone I am. I have no family. No brother, no sister. No father, no mother. All alone in the world, that's me. I have no one.
Okay, that’s only half true. I’ve never had a brother or sister, and now that my father’s dead, I never will. My mother, however, is very much alive. But, if anyone ever asks about her, I just respond with a simple: “She’s dead.” Because to me, she is.
Then I thought about my home town. About how it’s no different from where I live now.
Originally, I’m from New York, but four years ago after my father passed away my Mom and I moved here, “New house, new place, new life. New start.” are the only words that came out of my Mother’s mouth for the first week that we arrived here. I knew no one. I had no one. I was a wreck.
I got bullied at school –or should I say, I get bullied at school. I have but one friend, Sophia. I was in no position to try and push Sophia away when we met, she was the only one who would talk to me, and I’ll always remember that. But, even nice people like Sophia have flaws. She’s my best friend, but I just can’t trust her. See, Sophia has a twin sister, Sophie. Sophie is nothing like us…
Sophie is popular and she fits in and everyone loves her, and all that usual crap. Sophia and I on the other hand are not popular, we do not fit in at all, and everyone just about hates us. What with our ever-changing hair colour, our clothes that make us stand out, our weird taste in music, we’re basically outcasts. But, despite all of that, Sophie and Sophia are still sisters, and twins at that, and Sophia has this annoying habit of telling Sophie everything we talk about. Unfortunately, I had to learn that the hard way.
I have a harder time at school than Sophia though, because Sophia is Sophie’s sister and some people cut her some slack for that, and I’m a nobody which means nobody cares who I am.
So my school life is a mess, as is my home life, and basically I myself am a mess. I’m very strange. There’s a few things about me that the mainstream person might find… Unusual.
One; I have a lot of secrets. A lot of secrets that cause me a lot of trouble. Secrets no one knows, because no one cares enough to see that they're written all over my face, my body... My eyes. Speaking of eyes, let’s move onto number two.
Okay, so two; I never look someone in the eye. Never. It’s half of a self-esteem thing, and half a weird theory I have that the eyes are the chamber of your soul, and anyone who looks deep enough into them, will be the exact person to unravel all your secrets and will know how you’re feeling and stuff, so if I look no one in the eyes, I’m not giving anyone the chance to see into me. That way no one can see through my mask.