" more than anything, she wanted to be indestructible.
but not just indestructible on the outside, oh no,
she wanted to be bulletproof. nothing would hurt her,
nothing could fracture her heart.
she'd felt pain before and she hated it so much she...
"This smile can't last forever. Its only temporary, at least, until it starts to falter and the mind begins to shatter. That's when you know, you can't take it anymore..." - Danalpswolf
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_______
[Desirae]
"I HOPE YOU LIKE YOUR NEW TEMPORARY HOME, DESIRAE." I turned my white-blonde head slowly to see Ms. Landfills, an elderly old woman who had 'generously' paid for me to come live with her after I got transferred to the Swellview Orphanage.
It's true though. No one cares for you when you're in an orphanage. They didn't care one bit about what I had just witnessed, the shooting of both my Mom and my Dad in our own house.
You know, I was perfectly fine in Mella.
Well...actually, no, I wasn't. That's a lie. Sure, I held good grades, had a few friends here and there that dried up after meeting me. But at home... My Mom was a drunk and my Dad was a cheater.
And everyone knows what happens when those two mix.
I was sitting in my room, listening to Taylor Swift and trying to block out the screams coming from downstairs because I figured that this would just be another one of their regular fights. They get caught, they scream, they kick, they go to bed, then make up. But that wasn't the routine this time. This time my Mom had a gun.
I remember shaking it off my shoulders at the pounding up the stairs and yelling getting louder by the minute. But I soon regretted that when I heard two loud gunshots being fired throughout the house.
The neighbors must have called the police, because I was too busy running downstairs and sobbing over the dead bodies of my parents, their blood staining the carpets of the living room.
Long story short, my parents killed themselves, I got sent to an orphanage after being checked out after a case of shock, Ms. Landfills adopted me, and now I'm in Swellview.
"Umm, it's just Des, Ms. L." I say shortly, as I grab onto one of my few luggage bags and start hauling it up the stairs.
"Okay, Des. Your room is the first one to the right. Make yourself at home." I nod at her directions and walk into the room. She seemed to have gotten a taste of what I like in a room from how the room was pretty much set up.
You have to remember one thing about Ms. Landfills and that's that she is basically a healthy amount of wealthy due to her husband dying in the military a few years ago. One thing I like about her is that she doesn't brag about it. You would think her house would be extremely fancy, but it's basically just as average as an average house could be, just a lot cleaner with a few nicer things added to it.
Leaving my bag on the hardwood floor, I stepped into the room, shutting the door behind me, and looked around:
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A/n: I'm too lazy to describe it so here's an idea. ☺️
I took a seat on the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands.
Remind me again why my life sucks so much?
Well, it may have to do with the fact that I had a perfectly fine life at school and a terrible one at home. Those two don't mix, they never do. For anyone unless the home problem gets solved, and in my case, it gets solved with suicide.
I don't know when I started crying but it must have been a while ago because when I pulled my hands away they were glistening with salty tears.
Rubbing my hands off on my leggings, I stood up and made my way over to the computer, my sadness slowly turning into anger which soon turned into rage. Tightening my jaw, I stabbed the keys, logging into my email. Once I reached that page, I started destroying every email that I had, slamming my fist down on the keyboard as a reply to the important ones and deleting everything.
Exiting out of my now destroyed email account, I logged into my Google Docs account and destroyed all of the important documents for school, notes, books that I had been writing... All got covered in random colors, different sized font, different fonts. Once I thought it was fine, I logged into all of my other social media accounts and destroyed everything.
Tears streaming down my cheeks, I deleted every post, slammed my hand down on the keyboard, declined and blocked all of my friend requests. After logging back into my email and my other accounts, I deleted every one. Every one got deleted so that there was no longer any trace of me on social media anymore. All of my accounts that I had used over the years got deleted, left without a trace. Anyone who wanted to find me would have to find me in person, not that I cared.
After I logged out of my browser, I turned to my entire account, you know, how you always log into your computer? Sniffling, I let out a small sob as I finished it. I deleted my entire account, everything that I had worked on for the last 13 years of my life got erased.
Finally, I shut down the computer. Tears slid down my cheeks as darkness covered the screen.
After that moment, I had made a life changing decision. I was going to change. Sure, my identity would stay the same: Desirae Elamen, 15 years old. But the girl I was now... This sensitive, trusting, doormat, disgrace, let down of a girl... Would be gone. I would change my style completely. I wouldn't be sensitive, I would be a backstabber, a heartbreaker. I wouldn't be trusting, I would be burdensome. I wouldn't be a doormat, I would be clever. I wouldn't be a disgrace, I would be graceful. I wouldn't be a let down, I wouldn't be a runt.
The girl who I am now only causes trouble. I'm too trustworthy, I let everyone in. To be safe, I'll be untrustworthy, I won't let people in unless they prove themselves to me.
A whole new me.
A meaner me. A more uptight me. Everything I live by will be gone. New things will replace that. And my look? My face and hair should be fine... But this disgustingly fat body will have to go.
Heading to the bathroom, I stared at my toothbrush on the counter. The bright purple color made me want to gag, even though purple is my favorite color. My gaze shifted towards the toilet.
No, a small voice in my head reassured me. You don't want to do it... Not just yet.
Nodding my head, I left the bathroom and began the long practice of renewing myself and unpacking.
....................
I'm sorry for those of you who have an eating disorder... But I hope you understand that she's anorexic. And she is also very insecure, that's why she's making the very extreme risk of changing her lifestyle. Also, I forgot to mention before, but major trigger warnings for this book. Purges, suicidal thoughts, and mature sequences will be sprinkled throughout so please read with caution.
