This is a not a happy story. This is a real one. Some will find this inspirational, some won't. Pleasing others is not what we are here for. I choose to tell u the truth instead of the fairy tales I know you prefer. See it as a wake up call.

Beep beep

It's time to get up.


3. Paper castle


She built a castle out of paper for herself to live in. Yet she sat on the hill watching peacefully as it collapsed.

I looked down at my vans as I walked. They were black. So were my jeans, and my tank top. The only thing colorful was my pastel lilac hair. I didn't care. I liked to tell myself this. I often told myself this several times through out one day. I don't care, but I did. Didn't I?  

I walked for approximately 10 min before I reached my destination and I'll tell you this, it wasn't Mia's house. From the outside it looked like any other house on the street, but of course that wasn't the case. It was were I, and others like me, ended up a tad too often. Nick, the owner of the house, approximately 26-30, was smoking by the door.

'Tue.' Was all he greeted me with but I just walked past him through the door. He had tried to make a move on me one too many times. Let me clarify, I'm sixteen. 

The house was dimly lit, and a circle of people sat on the empty living room floor. They were obviously passing something around, a bag filled with powder, of which further detail isn't necessary. I sat down next to Eric, one of my most trusted friends. 

'Who died Tue?' He said mockingly yet managed to have a big brother tone. One of which he seldome DIDNT have around me.

'My motivation' he laughed and hugged me using one hand.

'i never liked that bastard anyway' that was Eric, you could never be sad around him. I laughed too but not entirely wholeheartedly, my wrist was aching and the pain skewered all the way up to my shoulder. I knew that wasn't a good sign but I told myself, like I always do, I don't care. 

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