Why does this always have to happen to me?
"Bitch! Slut!"
"Do yourself a favor and stay far, far away from mirrors!"
"That was kinda lame."
"That's not important!"
"You disgust me... how can you live with yourself?"
"I'd hate to be you..."
I couldn't hold back the tears as they fell down my cheeks. Why can't this be like in the anime and manga where someone comes and saves the day for me?
Well. I don't live in a fictional, happy anime or manga world. I live in the real world, which is hell compared to some of those places. Sure, there are the darker anime and manga that might even be located in actual hell, but honestly I think I'd rather go to actual hell. It'd probably be the same as here anyway.
Hi. My name is Setsuki Mizuki. I have no siblings, but maybe that's a good thing. Just for being my sibling, they'd probably have a terrible life too. And parents. Terrible parents.
It's not like they care, and it's literally impossible to do anything behind their back because they basically watch me like a hawk. And they refuse to let me seek help for my depression. I've tried before. I've talked to teachers about it, called help lines, even spoke to the police. But my parents had this way with adults. Don't know what it was. Was it because they were good-looking? Had nice voices? I'm unsure. They just have a talent for persuasion and stuff...
"You're such a fucking slut, Setsuki. I bet you're naked under your clothes. Fucking slut. ...That sounded better in my head."
A girl with long blonde hair sighed. "Idiot."
Tears flowed down my cheeks. Why do I always get this treatment? What did I do to even deserve this?
Fuck highschool.
Fuck school in general.
Fuck my classmates.
Fuck everyone in school.
Fuck my life.
Fuck everything.
A boy threw a banana peel at me. "Disgusting!"
"Ew! A banana peel!" the blonde girl squeaked.
"Yes," the boy spat, "a banana. Len is a banana, that fucking cocaloid or whatever it was she liked. She should enjoy that banana then!"
Just because I like vocaloid... and anime... and weird things... is that really the reason?
Everyone stood over me. I cowered on the ground, still crying.
"Don't cry. Baby!" another boy spat.
With a shaky voice, I whispered, "Ca...can I pl-please go home now...?"
Was I too quiet? They kept screaming more insults at me, but I did my best to ignore them. But it wasn't that easy.
One girl screamed. "Oh my lord! I'm going to miss soccer tryouts--b-bye!" She immediately turned around and ran away.
"Oh shoot! Tryouts!" another girl yelped. "See ya!"
The majority of kids bullying me seemed to want to go to tryouts. They all turned and left me to sit in the darkness, shivering, covered in the garbage they threw at me.
I wiped the junk off of me. I was filthy, I should take a bath when I get home.
Or did they hate me because of that incident?
YOU ARE READING
Digital Depression
Teen FictionIt's not fair. Her parents could honestly care less. No one in school likes her, they just point and laugh. She even has a hard time making friends online. She had friends. Had. They'd been friends since pre-school, until grade 9. She's t...
