What's Real..?

Chapter 1: Who Am I Suppose To Be?

Jan 1, 2015
I'm not really sure how to start a journal, but I need to write this out somehow. I'm 18 and all the mess in my head is crippling me on the inside. I have so many people to please, I have so much pressure put on me, and I don't know how to handle it all. Where can lines be drawn in my life? I need to escape, I need to just leave and never come back... But where would I go? Wouldn't they still need me here? There's no escape for me, there's never an escape when it comes to my life. I should really know this by now.
Well, until next time...

- Mia Clarke

I stared at my computer screen unsure of why I thought writing would help me. Telling my online journal that I want to runaway from all of my problems didn't actually solve any of my problems. It just made me feel more like shit. I'll just try again tomorrow, I thought, it'll get better, I'll start feeling better eventually. Sure, they say that life gets harder as time goes on, but pretty soon I'm gonna have to catch a break somewhere right? Pretty soon, whatever deity that may or may not exist somewhere above the clouds is going to look down on me and say 'Mia has had enough of this bullshit for a little while, let's cut her a break.' I mean, that's completely plausible right? You're such an optimist when you want to be, I thought, Sometimes you just need to know when you're about to burnout. I knew people had been pushing me my entire life, I also knew that I was one of the main ones who pushed so damn hard, but in order for the world to go 'round, someone had to be pushed. Someone had to take the burdens off of the people who had deep roots in the world already, and I apparently wasn't deep rooted.

"Miiiiiiiiiaa!" My mom yelled from downstairs, "will you do me a favor?"

I groaned internally, this was either going to cost me or force me to do hard labor, but still I replied, "Sure, what is it?" In a loud enough voice for her to hear me.

"Come here a minute, will ya?"

I groaned again, but this time aloud, and made my way to my bedroom door. I paused for a moment in front of my mirror, it was one of many that were around the house. I didn't usually sit and stare at myself, but the minor glimpse I caught of myself as I was passing was enough to make me stop. I looked so tired, someone might actually realize I hadn't been sleeping if they took the time to look at me. Sure, my dreads were neat, I had a nice face, and I didn't look like some thug off the street, like most might think I would, ya know being black with dreads and all. I actually looked, what one might call, white. I was dressed in tan cargo shorts, and a black tank top. My hair was pulled back tied within itself, and that just brought more attention to my eyes, though they were covered by my glasses, I could still see the bags. Whatever, I thought, I'll sleep later.

"Mia hurry up!" My mother urged from downstairs.

What could she possibly want with me? From me? I was now walking down the stairs towards the livingroom. That's when I heard voices, one was my mother's...and the other one? Well I could tell it was a girl's voice, other than that I had no idea who was downstairs waiting for me with my mother, but I really didn't feel like meeting anyone new.

"Mia is really into poetry too! Maybe you'll be able to get her to share some of her poems with you, she's so secretive sometimes." I heard my mother telling our guest right before I walked into the livingroom from the stairs. Thank you mother...real smooth.

"Well I know how that---" Whoever she was stopped mid-sentence, and stared at me as I walked in. "Hi..." she said, with a smirk playing on her lips. "You must be the famous Mia."

I don't know why the words were stuck in my throat while I looked at her, I'm not sure why I stared so openly without being ashamed to actually do so, but there I was looking like I was in shock. What was my issue? Pull yourself together you moron...