I'm sorry you don't get it, Mom. Sometimes I don't get why I do the things I do. I just know I wake up every morning and wish I was dead.
My room is cleared. My head is cleared. Earlier, around dawn, I took out the last load of trash. I look around and see what's left. Nothing. There is no more Daelyn Rice. As I was. As I am. Or will become. I'm a blank slate
No one ever found out what was happening inside me. How the pain was eating me away. No one ever came to my rescue, or stood up for me.
With determination and purpose, I head into the light.
What you see, isn't always what you get
She's still doing it, pushing me into situations I can't handle, making me cope. She knows I can't cope.
That same piercing screech in her voice every time at the hospital. "Do something!" When I slit my wrists. "Help her!" The last time too. "Somebody help her. Help us!" You're helpless, both of you. All of us.
I hated him. I hated them all. They made me hate myself even more than I already did.
...When I asked [my dad why the sky was blue] he said it was because God's a boy. If God were a girl, the sky would be pink. 'What about sunrise and sunset?' I'd asked. Dad had looked dumbfounded. 'You kids. You think too much.' It frightened me how shallow the gene pool was that Liam and I were wading in.
I shouldn't have been there. I should never have been born.
I think about my choice. Either outcome is bleak. If I stay and live through high school, go to college, get a job, what will ever change? This blackness inside will never go away. I don't make friends; I'll always be alone. If I go, at least there's hope of peace. Chance of a new and better life on the other side.
Who will see you through the darkness? "Me," I key in the answer. "I'll find my own way.
I don't sleep. All night long I'm wide awake, thinking, Secrets, secrets, secrets. There are secrets in my past no one needs to know. Secrets in my present that might kill Kim and Chip. I don't want to take my secrets with me when I go. When I pass through the light, i want to be free of everything and everyone.
Miracles don't happen. You make them happen. They're not wishes or dreams or candles on a cake. They're not impossible. Reality is real. It's totally and completely under my control.
I may be fat and ugly, but I'm not stupid. If anyone had ever gotten past my looks, they might've noticed I have a brain.
Because no one can be trusted.
I didn't tell him. And I never told her the whole truth. What would it matter? There was nothing she could do; nothing anyone can do or will do.
I won't be alive so I won't care who finds me.
I suppose I'll be remembered as dull. Timid. No one ever knew me. People came. They went. I was kind, I think. Not sympathetic, but considerate of others. I always gave up my place in line. I loaned out pencils and paper, or let people take them from me. I never reported a sexual assault.
Like anyone cared where I was, or who I was.
My mother read that parents should spend quality time with their children. One way is to sign up for organized activities together. This month we're taking meditation to free the mind. Last month it was Rolfing. Have you ever Rolfed, Tone?" "Only after the school's shepherd's pie," I said.
What can happen in a few minutes changes you forever.
Do what, Kim? Lead a normal life? Too late. Way too late.
I got singled out. I don't know why. Why do people always target me? Is it because I'm short and they figure I can't fight back? They're right, I can't, but it's not because I'm vertically challenged.
You would never understand, Kim. You think I'm normal; you wish I was.
Why are people so cruel? What did I ever do to them?
I throw him two bones: a smile and a nod. Both lies.
I wish I could tell my parents, " If you want to help me, help me die.
I want to tell them, "Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person.
No one else knows I'm alive, which means they won't notice when I'm gone.
Mom's eyes blazed. "Are you sleeping with her?" Oh, god. Did we have to do this here? Now? "Well, actually," I smirked, "we don't get a lot of sleep.
Really? It seems too good to be true. I don't trust it. I don't trust anyone.
I close my eyes and black out the day. The exhaustion of living through it, surviving.
I hope they remember the good stuff, when I was a baby, a toddler, when they still had hopes and dreams for their little girl, their miracle child. In truth they were good to me. They were only doing what they knew how to do; what they thought was best.
What was I afraid of, exactly? What other people would think? I guess, a little. But that wasn't what was stopping me from acting on my feelings. It was the intensity of them. The desire for her. I knew if I gave into it, I'd have to surrender myself completely. I'd lose all control. Everything I knew, everything I was, the walls I'd built up to protect myself all these years would come crashing down. I might get lost in the rubble. Yet, she made me feel alive in a way I'd only ever imagined I could feel. Bells, whistles, music.
Everything seems to be working." Except me. I'm broken.
But she never just accepted me for the way I was.
Why am i here? What's my purpose?
Girls scare me more than boys. Boys are cruel. Girls are mean.
As they were carting him off on a gurney, all I could think was, I wish that was me.
Don't choose me. I'm not worth your time.
They didn't guarantee you'd come out a whole person.
Yeah, I loved her. I couldn't help it. She was my brother.
J_Doe032692 wrote: I am not a thin person. However this does not give people the right to taunt me, calling me ugly and worthless, telling me to kill myself because no one will ever want me, or to make up songs about why I am so fat and how much food I eat. NO ONE, I repeat, NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO HURT ANOTHER HUMAN BEING THIS BADLY. My throat constricts. The neck brace feels as if it's shrinking and cutting off my esophagus. I reach up and cover the words with my hand and the web site dissolves. I want to go. Now.
Never question the sanity of a woman who can render you defenseless with a look.
This is my vision-what I imagine I'll pass through on my way to the light. The blue sky, the clouds, the rays of light.
I had to fight so hard not to cry.
Your failures and your faults, they stick with you. They glob into ugly, cancerous growths inside you and make you want to die.
I knew right then and there nothing was ever going to change. It wouldn't matter if I was tall or short or fat or thin or absent every day. I was a loser from birth.
You can't trust machines. You can't trust people.
Take it as a token. Because tomorrow when I go, I want you to believe friends are possible.
Our eyes met across the crowded room, like in the movies, except we didn't share a knowing smile and race into each other's arms. Instead I fell into the trash can.
This is my fault. Mine. Making her think I'd be here for her.
Yeah, I hear the truth. But this is my truth.
I've never been afraid of the dark. I'm more afraid of the day, of people. I love the night. The solitude. Well, I don't love it. I don't feel love. I hate people, so I hope when I get there it isn't crowded. I hope the light is a momentary phenomenon and the other side is completely black. And silent.
His eyes are like a telescope. I look into them and I'm transported across the universe to a world I've never been.
She responds by kissing me harder and longer and deeper. She loves me too. She's just afraid.
Yet, when we talked, when we were together, she seemed so familiar. Seemed to know who I was, where I was coming from. She knew me better than I knew myself, I think. She was easy to be with. And I wanted to be with her, like all the time.
There's always a way out. All you have to do is take it.
I just want the pain to end.
Year after year. "Please don't make me go [to school]" "You have to go," Kim would say. "It's a new school, make a new start." "Sticks and stones." from Chip. Words will only kill you.
Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.
The truth remains. I was, and am, disgusted with myself.
I don't have to answer. Until you know the question.
That's love? To let someone beat you and be hateful to you? These people are all so... Weak. Powerless to change their lives. I know the feeling. All you can do is take it. No one understands how it beats you down.
You still have," I looked at my watch, "twelve seconds to change your mind. Find someone else and save your reputation." One side of his lip cricked up. "I found you. I'll take my chances.
Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.
And it’s more. It’s about getting past that question of whats wrong with me, to knowing there’s nothing wrong, that you were born this way. You're a normal person and a beautiful person and you should be proud of who you are. You deserve to live and live with dignity and show people your pride.
Stop trying to save me. You couldn't then; you can't now.
People don't change. There are two kinds of people in the world: winners and losers. Black and white. I don't know where gray fits in, or if you can even live in that shade.
I'm all she's got and if I don't make it this time . . ." You'll pass through the light. A ribbon of guilt twists my stomach. I'm all Kim and Chip have too. But the difference is, they'll be better off without me.
It was all about hate. There should be laws. We're there laws? Can you legislate against hatred?
I know it's hard on her. If I don't tell her she'll kill me." He pauses. "That was supposed to be funny.
Everyone's a liar. Everyone I've ever known.
I'm scared. What will tomorrow bring? It has to be better than today. It has to.
I'm going to die a virgin. I like the thought if it. So pure.
The sad truth is, they should never trust me.
What's the point of living if you don't belong anywhere?
But I'm no hero. I had to keep my dirty little secret. The worst sin I committed was holding it in; letting the secret blacken me.
Secrets. I can't take then with me. If I do, when I go, when I arrive at my final destination, I'll be . . . impure.
What I know is you can't go back. You can't press delete and re-key your life.
What did she see in me? What does she see that I don't?
I have no intent. I have no reason to live, that's all. When I'm gone, I don't want to be remembered.
You won't know until it's over. You won't find me in time.
But its not funny. Not to people who've been told they're losers their whole lives and believe they will never be anything else.
How does he do it? Live. With the fear of death every day. I don't fear death as much as I fear the thought of living.
Is that all I am? A friend?" "Of course not," I say. "I love you." "Am I the only one?" she asks. "Yes. Completely." First, last, and always.
Trust. That was what this was all about. If you can't trust the one you love, you don't have anything.
At times like this, I'm thankful I don't feel love.
I wish I was invisible to him, to everyone.
Sometimes I'd catch myself looking at my reflection in windows and wonder who I was. Where I was going. Then the image would change and it wouldn't be me, just some nebulous shadow person.
His invitation lingers. So does my question. Why me? I don't know the answer. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a starving, stunted bird who never grew wings and lost all reason to sing.
I don't have alot of people to talk to. Not alot of people are worth my time.
There's no reason to speak. I have nothing to say.
But you'd sell your soul for it, wouldn't you? For one day of feeling beautiful.
What will I become? Because I won't be me any longer. That will be a relief. I dont want to be the helpless person I've always been.
Would I cheat to save my soul? No. But to save my G.P.A.? Yes.
I never defended myself. Not once. I never said, "Excuse me? What gives you the right to insult and demean me?" I let them steal my dignity.
My parents will be sad for a while, and they may even blame themselves, the way they do now. Eventually they'll come to peace with my decision. I hope they'll realize I'm finally at peace.
Sometimes I felt as if there were no tomorrows, that everything, my whole life, was crammed into one long day. A continuous stretch of meaningless time. Sometimes I even wished there was no tomorrow, if this was all I had to look forward to.
Why couldn't I have a fatal disease? It'd be so much easier.
Who becomes you? No one. No one should become me. When I die, I don't want my body or soul inhabited. I wouldn't wish me on anyone.
...the man of my dreams is a girl.
Oh sure. Because we always talk about deep down stuff.
It was her way of saying, "You should kill yourself.
I'd decided to write him and tell him to leave me alone. Please, in a nice way, go away, I really can't deal with you.
How will you be remembered? As a loner and a loser.
I hear you. I just don't believe a word you say.
That earns him a smack with my book bag. "Ow." He clutches his arm. "What do you have in there? Books?" A grin snakes across his face. "I like my women feisty." He adds, "I like my broken.
