Sometimes I wonder if I am real. When I wake up in the morning, I feel like I should pinch myself to see if I'm awake or dreaming. I always wonder if anyone knows about me. About all the lies I have to tell to keep my secret. My mom always tells me about how I can't let anyone know. "They will take advantage of you. Use you for testing." She always tells me when I ask why I can't tell.
Being only seventeen is hard. Especially with my situation. Most teens would crash under the pressure I have to deal with. No, I am not bragging. I would let anyone take my place in my life, while I take theirs, if I had the guts. But I can't.
I am to soft. I was raised to give the shirt off my back to anyone who needed it. I was raised to care about others more then myself. I was also raised to keep secrets. To lie about my life.
Everyone sees my family as the perfect family. Only if they knew. My parents are strict, but who's parents aren't a little strict sometimes? Most parents will let their kids live a normal life, but mine is far from normal. I don't think other kids have to deal with the things I have to deal with. But it doesn't matter. Because I have no friends.
That's why I'm moving states. I am from Florida, born and raised there. I am always used to the hotness of the sun, the bikinis and tan lines. But now I'm going to Ohio. I should be excited, to see more of the world. To see snow for once in my life, but I'm not.
I'm to worried about keeping my secret. Because I am afraid to lose friends, to lie even more about my life. To lie, say I'm normal. Say I don't have anything different about myself. If only that were true.
Because I don't think anyone else doesn't feel pain. I mean no pain at all. Fall off a bike? Oh well, I'll be fine. Brake a bone? No problem for me, I won't feel it. Get a burn off the hot stove? That's okay, it doesn't hurt.
I'm different. I'm me. Im immortal until I die of old age. Or loneliness.