26 ❀ There are only so many people I can hurt

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THERE ARE ONLYSO MANY PEOPLEI CAN HURT

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THERE ARE ONLY
SO MANY PEOPLE
I CAN HURT

0:26

**✿❀ ❀✿**

I HATE MY FATHER. I HATED HIM THEN & I hate him even more now. Everyone always told me, "Sadie, Your dad was just young and didn't know how to take care of you." Well, where is he now? It's not like he was 19 forever.

Last I heard, he had a new family. What about me? What about Jonathan? He was all I ever wanted. I wanted to be loved by my father and to feel like I was enough. I was only a kid. Shouldn't a child know the love of her father?

He made me think something was wrong with me. As if It was my fault, his sudden disappearance caused me to spiral out for different reasons; he may have left us. Because I know if he loved me, the age he was in which I was born wouldn't have mattered.

I started thinking maybe I was too chunky; perhaps I wasn't pretty enough. Was I too quiet? Was I too loud? I wanted to feel like someone was listening to me and my feelings and my pain. That's why I liked Jaeden.

I had him in my second period, specifically in Chemistry class. He sat in front of me, and when we had group projects, he listened to me and my ideas when I suggested things. He was brilliant, and he was kind.

I had a crush on him. But I was too scared to tell him anything, so I didn't come clean about my crush on him. He hung around this girl named Y/n; from what I heard then, they had been best friends since they were in diapers. And they were complete opposites.

She looked so cool like she didn't care what anyone thought. And lucky for me, she ended up changing classes and started coming to my fourth period, which was English.

Y/n and I shared a desk, and even though she stunk like alcohol, I wanted to be her friend. Though she didn't do any of the work and always put it on me, I wondered if we would in the future. I could either gain the guts to tell Jaeden, or Y/n could put in a good word for me.

There wasn't much between us, she didn't care about her studies, and I cared too much about mine. But one day, Y/n got into an argument with the girl that sat behind us, and she said that Y/n had no father.

At first, it caught me off guard because why would someone say something without evidence? I guess I was wrong because it must've been true. Y/n didn't hesitate to give that girl a concussion as soon as class ended.

It happened right in front of me, and it was a bit badass. She was suspended for a week until she returned; Y/n acted as though nothing had happened and continued either falling asleep in class or asking me for another pencil to draw shapes on her sheet.

I often went to the bathroom during lunchtime to barf up my breakfast; I've been doing this since middle school. Nobody notices, though, because hardly anyone comes to the bathroom farthest in the school.

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