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Party hats and green streamers.
This is suppose to be about me...
I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.
I don't get it.
I do something wrong, (like always) I get beat up for it, I try to explain but no one listens, I fix the problem, but you're there to hold it over my head, and then you completely kill me in class.
I'm the bully?
No, you're the bully.
If you couldn't tell, I began to cry, and I was even sitting next to you.
It hurt. Hurt more than a stupid muffin in your band locker?
I feel killed, rejected, I feel like I am the center of every one's problem.
Oh, of course, that's me.
I don't know why you got so mad.
It hurts, but how will it hurt if I just...died?
Died on the inside, but I'm still a "person"; living and breathing.
I hate my life right now, nothing can make it better.
I envy people who have cancer, and I want a way out of my life. Nothing changes.
Wake up. Go to school. Get beat up for something over-dramatic and stupid. Come home. Yell at mum. Go to sleep.
Oh, it's not like I'm ruining any one else's day, and it's not like I'd rather yell at my mum than go hang out with friends, I would rather maybe have a friend call.
Mabye, but you're caught up with, "what if she doesn't answer" than "I hope she's okay and I didn't hurt her feelings.."
Well, just for the record, you did.
And I still want to get out of life.





 
 
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