Chapter 1
I cannot believe my fucking luck. I set my Apple Watch down, considered the fact that my ass was grounded from all electronics for at least another week, then hid my watch beneath my pillow.
I thought that he liked me. Well, I was hoping he'd like me but things almost never go the way I want them to, this included my love life, family life, social life, etc. I just want this weekend to be over so I could go back to school and I could feel like myself again.
My younger sister's old room feels like a room in a mental institution: shitty crayon art framed on one wall, pastel butterflies and hummingbirds on another. I sleep on a twin-sized bed and I share a bathroom with my repulsive twelve-year-old brother, Grant. I'm almost positive he's jizzed somewhere in that bathroom by now. The storage is great but the space is nonexistent so one shoe on the ground and the bedroom looks like a fucking tornado blew through. I'm so close to kicking the bucket and nobody has a clue.
I had to trade my mother-in-law's suite for this fucking shit-sty because I needed space from my helicopter parents and the bitch that is my mother hated the fact that she wasn't in control anymore.
My younger sister, Gemma, now has her own bathroom, a queen-sized bed, a huge bedroom, and a big walk-in closet and doesn't have to share with anyone.
I feel like shit. Most days, I can't decide if I should salvage my dropping grades and fight it out for the next two years or if I should get it over with and kill myself. I have no connection to myself, When a depression commercial comes on, my mom makes fun of it and there was this scare when I accidentally told my therapist too much and my mom blew up at me the day before my birthday. My therapist had told my mother that he thinks I'm depressed and my mom couldn't seem to handle not being able to control my mental health. She also couldn't believe that I didn't tell her so she said that, either I was lying to my therapist for pity, or I was seriously fucked up in the head and I need pills ASAP.
What can I say? I lied to get sympathy from my therapist. I don't want to be fucked up and I don't want pills. My biological mother is fucked up in the head. I don't what there to be any more correlations between the two of us. So I lied to my parents. That's some full-circle shit right there.
Now whenever I do the whole therapy thing, I'm a happy and slightly stressed teenager who has nothing wrong with her other than some minor poor time management. I'm not feeling sad or anything like that. Of course not.
I'm tired of being a burden for everyone else, I bring problems wherever I go. It would be better for everyone involved if I succumbed to the fact that, yeah, everyone has a purpose. Mine is to realize I'm worth nothing. I'm a total fuck up and the fact that all I want is for this guy who doesn't even like me the way I want him to is to like me shows that.
I have this thing where I need to be around him and I need to talk to him. Yeah, we've flirted but it was brief and it hasn't happened for a while so I think that part of the friendship is over. He likes a Freshman girl who's probably skinny and short and cute. He won't even tell me who it is. Maybe that's what keeps me coming back. Maybe it's all just a ruse, a gimmick if you will, and he really only wants me, he's just feeling it out.
