High School.

The story you're about to read is 110% true, though names have been changed. This non fiction tale tells of a 14 year old girl battling to over come various mental disorders, such as depression and anxiety. The girl is faced with the bad truths in the world: not everyone in the world will like you. Some may even hate you, to the extent of wanting it to be known. The girl goes through high school, and as if it wasn't hard enough, she's bullied. Terribly. How do I know this story is true? Because I lived it.


1. Chapter One: One in a million

   [CAUTION: The story you're about to read it completely true. This story could cause relapsing. If you are feeling suicidal, please contact the national suicide hotline. 1-800-273-8255]

Author's note: This is just a teaser view, the whole book will be out sometime later this year, less I have a large demand for chapters. I would like to thank you in advance for listening, because not many people have heard this story...



          I was fourteen years old when I wanted to kill myself. I had a hell of a year, and as far as I was concerned, I was done with it. You may ask, “With what exactly?” I was done feeling worthless. I had read up on depression before for a project, but never really understood it. Now with the mental disorder consuming me, I had never understood something so incredibly well. I always felt bad about having depression, here I was, a fairly weighted fourteen year old with everything in the world, and at the same time I had nothing. So many people in the world had it worse off than me, but I just couldn't get happy. It’s a terror not being able to control your own body, and I was trapped in a prison. Depression is like drowning, while you see everyone around you breathing, and it’s my biggest fear in the world. I've always wanted to tell my story, but I wanted to do it right and when it was over. Now, being nearly a year mark of complete and utter turmoil and hatred, I realize there may be no end, so a decision was made to tell my story before I was over. With that being said, let the story begin…

          The shivering cold set in as I saw the school building, I boarded up from everything round me. I wanted to get sick, the same feeling I had felt day in and day out. It had been nearly 2 months since the first fight with my patch of friends, but a new one had already started. My ex, a tall lanky boy we’ll call Quinn, had decided he wanted me to leave his friends (and maybe even his world, really) and if I wouldn't go in peace, he’d remove me. Little did he know, his “removing” would be more of a fight than anything. As I entered the school, I had the knowledge that no one in the building was fond of me. Any nice thing I’d ever said or done was eliminated from their minds by any lie Quinn and his friends had told them. I was the black sheep in a crowd of pristine white lambs. Eye darts and whispers weren't a thing yet, but I could feel them coming on. Rumor after rumor tacked on to my social status, which was on its way to hell.

          At the time I had finally given up trying to dig myself out of the grave. My old circle had turned out to be horribly great diggers. Which, I’m certain I would've been if I had 5 or 6 others helping me. I’d spent nearly 2 months trying to keep up with the rumors, but they spread faster than I could wrap my head around it. I had finally gone back into a shell, hoping to hide from the dark looks and whispers. Sadly, though, I had found you can’t hide from questioning glares and the feeling of hatred from other directed solely at you. Unaware that their words pierced me like a knife, they’d shout the most inhuman things at me, with little more than a false rumor to fuel their fire.

          “You’re a rotten pig. If you can’t stand any of us then why are you even here? Maybe you should just go home and kill yourself.” a tall girl said to me in a sharp, disgusted voice. I look at her, not even knowing her name. She looked kind enough, yet angry for words I hadn't even said. I opened my mouth, figuring I’d start my speech no one believed, but the words I said not only surprised the girl, but myself as well.

          “I want to. I honestly, really do. It’s funny, actually, you read all the things in the papers about how some kid just went off and did it, y’know? But there’s so much planning behind it. What your last words will be, what will your note say? Will there be a note at all, or will you leave your family behind with no reason for dying? Will anyone care you’re gone, should you do it at home or school? Really, how are you going to do it? Let your mother find you just as she remembers you, only without a heartbeat? Or will you let her find you in a pool of your own blood, so she memorizes the crimson color of what’s supposed to be inside you? There’s so much to it when it seems like nothing at all. I’m trying, and I’m sorry I’m not gone yet.”

          In awe myself, the girl’s bottom lip trembled.

          “What?” she asked, as if she hadn't heard anything I’d just said.

          “I’m awfully afraid of dying. What is there for me, in the end? Hell I suppose. I really never said a thing against you; I don’t even know your name. Hell seems like heaven in the life I've been having these days. I’m sorry for any word you've heard that I said against you, it’s not true. I’m Rachel, by the way. And you are?” And she told me her name, we’ll call her Kiersten.

          “Why don’t people like you, Rachel? Why are they spreading this all around?” she asked me. My heart swelled, the first person in over two months who wanted to know about me.

          “Well, I’d dated Quinn for nearly two years, one year six months and 12 days to be exact, when we finally broke up. We had a good run, so it seemed, but we fought a lot and he enjoyed calling boys attractive too much, so we split.” She choked at the mention of boys, “I guess he took it rough or something, because he decided I was a no good bitch and that he didn't want any of my friends to like me.” I sighed, wishing it had only gone that far, “but the bitch wouldn't fade. I still showed up to school every day, happy. He rallied his army and spread every rumor he could about me. If he hadn't spread that I was a lesbian, he could’ve told people I had AIDS and they’d believe it.” I laughed, “So now people hate me because they think I say things against them, which I don’t. I barely know anyone in this school minus them. Since the 8th grade I've been totally wrapped up in their busy world of nothing.” She nodded, seeming to understand.

          “So people hate you on account of lies? That’s bullshit.” She said, I failed to remind her she had been mad at me a moment before on the same account.

          “I know, but I manage. Rarely be in the halls and cover your face with your hair and people forget about you for a few moments. Sometimes I get too comfortable though, and forget everyone hates me. They remind me fast enough, though.” I replied, another sigh leaving me. Two months of not speaking to anyone but family had left me with a lot to say, and the thin girl listened. She heard me on my actual opinions on people and gave her own, laughing. It was nice to have another being believe me on my words.

           “Do you really want to kill yourself?” She asked, cracking her knuckles.

          “Sometimes,” I said, “I don’t see the point of being here if everyone hates me. It can get awfully lonely not having a person to talk to.”

She punched my arm softly, “well, you’re stuck with me now.”

          My first friend in what felt like a decade.




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