I am invisible. I have a normal school and lead a normal life. Well, so others may think. Yes, I am a quiet kid, the weird kid, the freak. I have been called everything in the dictionary. It doesn't exactly bother me anymore. I have no image, no perception, no life, no love to spread, and no meaning in life. I am useless, I don't do anything. I am just here in the hell we call "home". As I had said previously, I lead a "normal" life. Besides what I had done to myself in the past. That is not considered normal. Not at all.
Nobody would know if I had killed myself or had gone missing. I am fine with that, just as long as they don't know why that had happened or what had happened. I don't like being noticed.
If I had wished to end my life or had never been born, would that possibly be wrong? But... honestly, who would care nor notice? No one. Not even myself unless it would be my last moments.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Unfortunate.
Ficción GeneralJust short stories that I have made. Practically all of this would be triggers since there are mentions of suicide or self-destruction, etc. Most of the time these are my experiences or my emotions. I am so sorry if you relate to these.
