Introduction

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As I down another gulp of vodka, I wonder where everything went wrong. I'm 16 and I have no education, no job, no family, no friends. People tell me that things will eventually get better, I tell them bullshit. Not one good thing has happened so why would my life start getting better now? I just want answers as to why my life is so shitty. Some people say that God is the answer, then I ask them, "If there was a god, than why do people suffer?" They always say, "God only gives you things you can handle."
I always angrily respond with, "Than why do people kill themselves, or die from the things that they can appearently 'handle'?"
I don't want people's pity, I want no one to look at me, the pathetic pile of garbage I am.  What I really hate is when people are fake. It makes me sick watching people donate a small amount of money when other people are watching and they say, "Oh, I donate all of the time."
They don't. I know for a fact. My hideout is near a donation center, and surprise, surprise! They never show up again...
I finish off the bottle and huck at the pile of bottles. I believe there are 32 bottles in that pile, well 33 now...
I lay down and cover myself with my thin blanket, my pillow being several pieces of flat cardboard. A single tear drips down my cheek as I roll onto my side, damn it, what did I do to deserve this? Drowning my emotions in achohol waiting for the day I'll die. Feeling less human everyday.
I sigh deeply as I close my eyes, slowly drifting into a dreamless sleep.

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AN:
Sorry this chapter is so short, I promise the next one will be longer! Please let me know what you think!

Also follow this amazing writer:
Jay_Writer24
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⏰ Last updated: May 22, 2018 ⏰

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