Entry 7

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Emo Angel... Save Me

Entry 7

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1st May 2014

Currently, I'm living in a world where it doesn't matter where you go, the people will always be the same. I'm like the only sane person left on this Earth, yet people are suggesting a hospital in Manchester for people that cut and are emotionally unstable.

I'm not emotionally unstable.

What's unstable is the world we're living in. How can people push someone to death, suicide. My cousin and I were alike. She was a brown haired girl with hazel eyes and always wore a smile around everyone.

But people can be very stupid, very, very stupid. They couldn't see the the scars on her wrists and ankles. They couldn't see the burns on her thighs or the bruises on her back. She wasn't emotionally unstable. She had been pushed so far to think that death would be easier. She was probably the last person left that I had to speak too. Now there was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't be able to cope.

The new school I was in was slightly better, but the people in it were worse. I was allowed to sit in a class room during break and lunch, but during the lessons teachers wouldn't care. They probably thought it was better to let a kid like me to get bullied time and time again.

How the fuck did they even get their jobs? Oh, that's right. The whole fucking world is so fucked. No body cares anymore. I've grown used to the fact that now maybe I should cut deeper. The pain and bruises could be overpowered by my open wounds on my wrists.

Question of the day: who the fuck do people think they are?

When you find an answer, tell me because I can tell you now that I'm on the urge to giving up. 

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