I'm in English/ Language arts, or whatever this class is called. I've been crying all mod. Tears are still staining my face. I've been able to get out of the way of nine punches thrown at me today. Been made fun of nearly twenty times, and was shoved ten times. I hate my life. This is the only thing of why I'm still here. Why else would I still be alive? To endure suffering? To endure pain? To witness depression take over someone? Why am I still here? Why has this world given me a bad life? Why am I still living?
I just helped someone get there pencil. Gavin is there name. Gavin, someone that knows the other Kevins. Someone that actually seems like they are trustworthy, please help me.
YOU ARE READING
The Life of Me pt.1
Non-FictionThis is my life, and the pain that comes with it. My story, and the loneliness that rides on it. This is the other side of StolenGiant, and there isn't a way back from it. So if you want to hear on how sucky my life is, read it. I honestly don't car...
