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Do you think about how unlucky you are that you've never run into an armed robber.... to think that after wandering the streets at 4 AM all this time you have never had the chance to let someone else kill you?

Do you hear the sound of a blade slowly cutting into flesh? Do you even know what that sounds like? Or the sensation of tasting, smelling that metal as you drag it across you skin... have you ever tasted your blood from a nostalgic longing?

I seriously doubt you think the same as me.

I cried myself to sleep last night and each day I go to school, it takes all my will not to go into the student store and buy a box cutter. It's that easy. It's that simple.... but breaking that promise... that's not simple for me.

One of the few people I love, but also someone I hate so desperately right now. There is no real reason behind the hatred, other than that she stands in my way. The fact that I so blindly trust her when we haven't even talked in months... Ha. She doesn't even have my phone number anymore. How sad is that.... to trust someone who should mean nothing to you anymore.

She's one of those few people I treasure but also someone separate from them... she's someone that I would want to keep the news from. I would never want her to hear about it. I would rather she think I disappeared from the world, rather than if I killed myself. Deveraux...

There are other people in the world, who I would want to write a simple farewell to, something about how it wasn't their fault or how I'll be happy.... bullshit like that. And yet another set of people who I honestly wish I could live just to spite them. I hate them so much that I would never want to give them the satisfaction that I have left the world before them. That I, like they predicted, committed suicide. [/ spits] I loathe them in my bones. I have shaken with rage because of them and cried endless tears, yet I doubt they remember me. I will carry this grudge to hell with me. I would haunt them and torture them. If I had the option of taking their lives with my own, I would do it. If they were in a room with me and I had a pistol, they would die. I hate them so very much. I don't think there could be a cure for it.

And don't say that I need to "get over it" cause y'know... I've talked to people about it and I honestly wouldn't know how to "get over it" Would you? Would you honestly give me advice on how to "get over it"! Are you gonna tell me to live on or forget about it, cause that DOESN'T ******** WORK! I've tried to talk to a therapist about it and he minimized it. He treated me like some kind of infant. I wrote a speech about it and read it to a classroom of people. I've even talked to friends about it and family. You know what they do? They crumble under the weight and simply say "she was a b***h, I never really liked her. You deserve better" I'M NOT LOOKING FOR YOUR ******** SYMPATHY OR EMPATHY! I WANT SOMEONE TO TAKE IT APART WITH ME! I need someone to sit down and tell me that I need to confront her. If she is hurting me so much, I need to confront her. I need to do what scares me most.

Only... I haven't the balls for it. Not alone at least. I would never be able to even dial her number, let alone visit her house. I'm scared of what I would do alone with her or how she would see me. She means so much to me even now. I loathe that bond we have. I wish I could take it all back, making the pack with her, making friends with people there, and even going to the stupid school. I would have been better off without any of those people. Even Dev. I would have been better.

You can't disagree with me there.

Sure I would have been bullied but I would have had Andrea. I would have been home more for my parents and brother. My brother would have never been bullied. I would have taken things more seriously. I don't think I would have gotten sick of the world around me. I caught that sickness from that school... from my mother. A place with pressures like that.... it suffocates me. Oakmont would not have been like that. They would not have given a rat's a** about me. Compared to the drug addicts there or whores, I would have been a gift. I could have even gotten a boyfriend or had sex. Worst case scenario, I get raped or some s**t. Big whoop. At least my stupid fears would have come true. At least I wouldn't be some paranoid girl. I wouldn't get the shakes for no reason or cover my eyes at movies. I would know what happens.

I wouldn't know what it was like to be magical..... not yet. I might have discovered it in college, like a normal person is supposed to. I would have had a passion for life... instead of a loathing. I wouldn't know what it was like to lose the best thing in your life, the best person you could be, if I had never been to that school.

Worst part is, I don't think there is a way back to that person. I don't think there will ever be someone as magical.

I admit, I like my writing and creativity now but... in high school I was better. I had a lot of potential. I feel corked up because I don't let myself be manic. I don't allow myself the lifestyle I need because... well, society hates that. If I'm not normal, people will not like me and if people don't like me, then I'll never get a boyfriends. But this farce, this mask that I wear... it kills me. And I'm dying. I'm afraid. I know when I rip it off, my face will go with it and I will die. I will wither. I will burst into flames.... I'm not a vampire, I won't heal....