2. Intro Chapter
"what a freak.."
"look at her clothes..."
"no make up? she's crazy"
that’s what these are.
and that's all they'll ever be.
names, can't hurt me.
but thoughts can.
I'm a prisoner.
a prisoner to myself,
and to others.
I choke on my own words...
and I drown in my own thoughts.
I'm a 15 year old, whose gone to hell, and is stuck there.
little bumpy pink scars scattered across the wrists that used to be bare and clear.
I did this to myself.
I let them do this to me.
I felt my body jerk backwards causing the back pack i had been gripping onto over my shoulder to fall beside my body.
"watch it" I heard a gruff voice mumble.
I slowly got up, dusting off my clothes and picking up my bag from the floor, throwing it over my shoulder again.
yup, this is life.
the life of Brooklyn Pier.
the 15 year old invisible school girl.
whose only friend is a dog, and an old oak tree.
whose legs don't have an amazing thigh gap, but rub together.
who let the world get in her head.
and convinced herself she wasn't perfect.