I think of doing really horrible things. I am a f****** worthless mistake that fucks up everything I’m near. My brother even told me that he hopes he commits suicide on his birthday and he says that he knows for a fact that I won’t care. I’ve cut several times, each time going deeper and deeper, hoping that my pain and sadness and anger will drain with my blood. I never have the guts to cut past the part of no return though. I know my mother has seen them, I wear short sleeves on purpose. She just gives me disgusted looks. My friends won’t even help me. I’ve talked them from the edge more than once, but every time I start to feel weak again and start to spill, they either say ‘I gotta go’ or ‘I can’t get dragged into this’. It hurts so bad, keeping it bottled up. The only reason I haven’t bitten the big one yet is because I want to live for my father, who died when I was younger. He made me always feel so loved and cared for. I have to love for him, for the both of us. But everyday my resolve is getting weaker and weaker. I’m just glad it’s still summer. I’m bullied relentlessly by a girl and her friends, some of my old friends as well. She made up all of these horrible rumors about me that made me want to never show up at school again. They never get in trouble though, being ‘teachers pets’ and ‘great kids who can do no harm’. Just because I’m weirder, different than others, I’m scrutinized for it. Like the f****** witch trials of Salem, different and you are dead. I’ve day dreamed about shooting up my school even, I hate it and immediately banish it from my thoughts, barely just ever thinking about it for more than 10 seconds. I just want it all to end. To be normal again. To be happy. To love life. But that’s not gonna happen anytime soon