All My Old Writing.

Chapter Four

Oh my god, thank you. I have some pretty amazing fans and somehow I made the watty 2011 awards. It's only in the 700's, but I would've never gotten there without you peeps! Thank! I love you. <3

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Chapter Four

Someone came at noon, when I was eating a piece of cracker I considered lunch. I was light headed and just wanted to go to sleep and wake up weighing more than a hundred pounds. They knocked on our wooden door, right next to my height inscriptions from when I was younger. Nobody ever came to see me since I didn’t have any friends anymore. Not that I ever had that many.

I opened the door, wearing a cyan, silk robe that my grandma had given to me. It fit loosely everywhere, but it didn’t show the bones that looked like they could have snapped in half. It was the mailman. For some reason, he knocked instead of shoving the mail into the slot. But I also noticed that it was a different man, younger, probably only 18 or so. He was cute, brown curly locks outlined his face perfectly, but I knew I had no chance with him, or any other man on this planet.

“Here’s your mail.” He said, smiling and showing off his perfect teeth.

“Thanks.” I said grabbing the mail and closing the door.

I looked through the endless supply of bills and threw them on the counter, throwing away the rest of the cracker and resisting the urge to throw up.

Someone knocked again and I almost ignored it.

“Hey!” The mailman yelled, knocking louder.

I got scared, but still opened the door due to my stupidity and the fact that the knocking made my headache persist.

He stared at me, more like my face, probably noticing how thin I was.

“Hey, your Leia, right?”

“I don’t know.”

He got confused and shrugged.

“Well, I’m Alec.”

“Okay…”

“See ya later.” Alec said, finally walking away.

That was random. But my throat was partially filled with stomach acid. I struggled up the stairs of this stupid, hollow house. I made it to the bathroom, but my vision was blurred as the acid sputtered from my mouth. There was nothing left in my stomach, I barely ate. Why can’t it just stop!

I fell because I couldn’t support myself, I was too weak. Why couldn’t  I have told someone! My mom, the mailman! Mom, forgive me. It’s wasn’t my fault. I wrote my own eulogy inside my head. A girl  with passion. Determined. Stupid.

I was crying, salty tears dripping down my cheeks. This isn’t how I wanted to die. Barely conscious, sprawled across a bathroom floor, stained with my own vomit. And the only thing I can think of is, stupid