A girl wants to kill herself but finds out something that will forever change who she is
Dear Diary, [January 3rd]
Today at school this girl came up to me and just slapped me telling me to leave her boyfriend alone. I don’t even know her! Or the guy she was screaming about! My name isn’t Debra! My name is Sara! I punched that bitch in her neck and told her to get out of my face or I was going to kill her. Lucky for me, the principal only saw me punch her, so I just got expelled from 11th grade. Fabulous, I have no idea where I am going to go. I hate my life. Every one hates me. I wish I ‘d beaten that girl to a pulp, than the expulsion would have been worth it. Today on formspring.com someone told me to just kill my self. Maybe I should listen to them. My life isn’t worth living anyway. How would I do it? You know, kill myself. Slit my wrists? Jump off a bridge? Pop a hundred Advil? Shoot myself? Hang myself? Hmm, I should think about this. Well, I got to go. My mom is yelling at me to explain what happened today.
Dear Diary, [January 5th]
OH MY GOD. THIS GUY FROM MY OLD SCHOOL CALLED ME TODAY AND TRIED TO ASK ME OUT! HE IS SUCH A PLAYER! Ew, this is why I hate guys. They are nothing but trouble. Anyway, I was thinking about what I said last time, and I think I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to hang myself, because if I don’t do everything else right, I could survive. I have it all planned out. I’m going to do it on my mother’s birthday in two weeks. It's her fault that I’m alive anyway. I’m going to keep you updated. I hope my mom finds this when I die.
Dear Diary, [January 6th]
One day closer to ending my life! I know it’s weird, but I'm in McDonalds. I have been a vegetarian since I was in 2nd grade, but I have decided [since my life’s going to end]; I’m going to kill some cows too. I ordered a big mac, it's THE SHIT. I love their fries too. I think I'm going to pig out and get an apple pie and a McFlurry too. I’m sitting here, pigging out, and texting my “friends”. I am actually really happy. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. This is weird. I have my iPod too. I am listening to a song called Smile.
“Your better than the best, I’m lucky just to linger in your life. Cooler than the flipside of my pillow last night.” It’s a country song, but it’s really cool.
Have you ever thought about liking the same sex? I don’t know, I saw a girl and I kind of found her attractive. As in, I’d want to kiss her. See, I’m such a weirdo. This is why I should die. I am extremely un-educated too. I’m ugly, and just, I have so many problems. I think I'm going to buy an 80-dollar belt that is really strong. I can hang myself with that. I know how too. It’s in pretty much every movie. I wonder why they make movies with suicidal people. It just teaches people how to kill themselves. OOH. You know what, I think I’m going to call my friend to see if she got some drank or dro. Ima get fucked up. I’m going to have so much fun these next weeks. My mom’s going to kill me (to bad I’ll probably already be). HAHAHAHA. I am evil. Earlier today I went into hot topic and I stole a lot without getting caught. Maybe I should steal more often.
Dear Diary, [January 7th]
Today was strange. My mom told me to meet her downtown at some building on a corner. I was waiting on the steps when she pulled up with a big folder of something.
When we went inside, it was gorgeous. It was something out of a movie. They had a front desk made of dark marble, neon chairs, and a shelf with glass sculptures.
My mother went straight to the desk and gave them our last-name. She was told by the lady with a braided bun to sit down in a neon chair and wait. She sat down at the pink one across the room and crossed her legs. I decided to sit all the way on the other side of the room. When I sat down I noticed a boy about seventeen or eighteen staring at me. He looked so out of place. He had blue-ish green eyes, gauged ears, a lip ring, and was wearing all black. He reminded me of myself. I looked into the mirror besides me. I had the same jet-black hair, same gauged ears (only about 5 sizes smaller), same eye color, and I noticed that we even had the same nose almost! This was so creepy. I was so happy when the lady with the braid called our last name.
In the other room the lady took us to, there was a man at another marble desk on the computer. He looked like he was doing something important. The strange thing was that when he saw my mother he smiled and got up quick to give my mom a hug. He had an even bigger smile when he saw me. He introduced himself as John Kollen and started going on and on about how big I’ve grown. I grew extremely curious about who he was and how he knew me. My mother sent me out of the room without an explanation and said to wait outside the door. It felt like hours had passed before she finally came out. She didn’t have the papers anymore. She wouldn’t talk to me the whole ride home and sent me to my room as soon as we got home. I laid in bed and I don’t know what time I eventually fell asleep.
Dear Diary [January 9th]
I guess this week won’t be all that fun like I thought it would be. Every time I ask my mother about the strange building, the man who knew me, or even the papers she sends me to my room and yells at me. If she didn’t want me to ask these questions or know anything about it, why did she take me? I am extremely confused.
I have 8 more days until my mother’s birthday (a.k.a. the day I kill myself). I haven’t even thought about it since the strange marble desk and the dude that looks like me.
Dear Diary [January 10th]
HOLY SHIT. My mother called me into her room and explained everything about the strange place.
“Sara, it’s really hard for me to say this, but I don’t know when I else I will have the chance before your gone.”
Before I was gone? What is she talking about! “I know you have probably been freaking out these past three days.” Umm, yea! You’ve kept me in the dark for the past few days (Literally)! Well, that building was actually a special place for people like you. -“ People like me? What? “-That boy in the room was one of them. So was the man in the office.” What?
“Mom, just tell me, please! People like me? What are you talking about”? I couldn’t help but yell a little bit. “Ape, you’re about to turn seventeen in a month and I have to tell you before you turn seventeen. Your father didn’t leave me after you were born and he never worked for a toy company. Your father was actually apart of a secret society of The Wicked”
My mother explained for an hour about The Wicked and how my father and I were born into that group. They tried to protect me but the group recently contacted my mother five months ago reminding her she had a half of year left with me before I was to be taken away and taught by them. When she was explaining all that, I thought I was apart of some type of X-Men group and that I was born with special powers or something. Of course though, only cool people in movies and books get powers. Apparently The Wicked is just a secret group that the government created in the early 1800’s. We are just all a bunch of babies experimented on since the early fetus stages. They injected us with steroids and tried to control our DNA. That is why I look so much like that boy in the office. We started our injections and stuff in the same week. Lucky for me though, we have ONE special power that we get taught to use. That power? Oh, nothing special, except our senses are EXTREMELY acute and un-human like. This is why we get taken at the age of seventeen (they are almost fully developed then) and are taught at a special school designed for people like us.
Dear Diary [January 11th]
Yesterday felt like a dream. I really need to find out more about The Wicked. What did they do to me? If they put steroids and stuff in me, why don’t I have a lot of muscles? I have so many questions. Mom said I’m getting picked up on my birthday. Maybe the boy from that room will be there when I get to “special” school.
I am so unsure about this whole suicide thing. My birthday isn’t until a month after my mom’s. I don’t think I should go through with this anymore. I mean that I’m special. I have a purpose to live. But then again, I’m a freak of nature. I can’t tell anyone. Maybe it would be a good idea to still kill myself. What if The Wicked is a group of bad people? The name does sound evil. I think I should forget about this whole X-Man part of my life and just keep working on my plan. I only have six more days and I haven’t even bought a belt. I don’t even have money (and I can’t steal an $80 belt). My mom did save a lot of my father’s stuff though. He probably has a rope of some sort. That is the traditional way of doing it anyways. I should start a draft of my suicide note. I bet I will have the best, and longest suicide note of all time. Maybe I’ll make a Guinness World Record.
Dear Diary [January 13th]
“Hello mother, kid’s from school, and father. I hate you all. You all made my life hell. But first, Mom. You never let me speak or even explain myself. When you do listen, you don’t care what I have to say and you tell me to stop back talking you. All those mother’s days that I never bought you anything or got you a card, it was because I have nothing to thank you for. I don’t want to live so why would I thank you for giving me something I didn’t want (life)? Kids from school, two words. Fuck you. You are the reason my pillow was wet from salty tears at night, you’re the reason I can’t stand being on a bus because I think everyone is making fun of me. You are the reason that I will probably never have a boyfriend ever in my life because I don’t believe anyone when they tell me I am beautiful or cute. You’re the reason this letter is being read right now and why my heart has stopped beating. Father, you abandoned me. I lived my whole life without a dad. “
That is my suicide note draft; it’s not even CLOSE to being finished. I have so much more I have to express. That’s just the outline and stuff. I have four more days until the 17th. I am doing pretty good forgetting about x-men (besides this of course.)!
Dear Diary [January 14th]
Last night I stayed up pretty late thinking. I was thinking a lot actually. Also, I re-read the outline of the suicide note over and over again. I think I am getting warm feet. You know like when you’re going to get married but you start getting second thoughts about going through with it and they call it cold feet? I am getting that; only I guess this would be warm instead of cold. I was cold before but not I’m getting a little bit warmer to life. I can’t even believe I am thinking this. But, I think my life may be worth living. For some strange reason, I feel as if someone is telling me to live. The voice is telling me I am worth it and telling me that I have a purpose. It says “everyone has a purpose in life no matter how big, or small. Whether their purpose may be discovering the cure for cancer or whether it may just be living and affecting someone’s life a certain way”. I’m not sure whether or not that voice is correct or not. It sounds so poetic. It doesn’t even sound like my conscience either. My conscience would say something like “no, this is bad. Very bad. You know that.” I really need to think about this more.