City of Angels

[Prologue]

I guess you could say that I'm the shy type...

"OH MY GOSH MONROE!"

"CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?!"

"AAAHHHH! I CAN'T BELIVE IT'S HER!"

No? Okay. Well, this is how my story goes. Nobody likes me, well.. except for my fans. But, they don't count. They're just a bunch of people like me who want to get rid of those scars that have been eating away at their insides since whenever. They're the ones that want to get rid of all the pain, and find someone who loves them for who they are as an individual, and not some kind of play toy.

Living in Los Angeles, or the City of Angels as I now call it, has broadened my sense of individuality. Some of you may be asking how, so let me explain. In L.A., you see different kinds of people every single day. I'll put it in definition form for you.

There are the followers: Those who will do anything to impress people by dressing or acting like others. Basically a kiss-up.

Then there are the leaders: These are the people who inspire others to achieve their goals and dreams. Kind of like how people look up to a certain relative, or a celebrity.

Next are the know-it-alls: They'll hear a conversation, and ease their way inside of it just so they can put their input in about it. God knows how much I hate hearing someone talk for 20 minutes on the subway about the moon and the stars.

The assumers: You can figure this one out on your own. These people are usually stressed, or self-concious, which makes them think that you're doing something to intimidate them in whatever way.

Lastly, there are the idiots: ........This one's also pretty self explanatory. They're neither followers or leaders. They're just people with no life, who want attention 24/7.

I myself used to be a follower. That is, until I learned that EVERYBODY will begin to use you, so now, I'm just my own person. To those out there who try to fit in, don't waste your time. People are going to look at you, and treat you like dirt, but you'll be so oblivious to it, that it hurts you in the long run. To those who are already followers, get out as fast as you can.

I know this seems like I'm giving out life lessons, but I'm really not. I'm informing you, so you won't make the same mistakes that I did... Okay, that DOES sound like a lesson. Well, I guess that's not a bad thing, but I don't want you guys thinking I'm the preacher type.

Oh! I didn't really introduce myself. My name's Monroe Radeyah, 17 years old. I live in a decent sized apartment with my brother Lucas, and I'm considered an internet star. Lucas kind of helped me gain my internet popularity since he's got thousands of Instagram and Twitter followers based off of his looks. People never really payed me any attention until Lucas posted a picture of us on my 13th birthday. Since then, I began making videos on YouTube and Vine, and that's when I slowly began gaining some love.

I wish it never happened though. Because of my internet fame and fortune, I began loosing the trust of those I loved the most, along with their lives.

Since you may be confused, I've decided to tell you the full story on how I blame myself for the deaths of others.