The Diary of Someone No-one Cares About

No-one really cares about my life. I have friends, but they don't listen. I have parents, but some things you can only tell your friends.
So I have a diary. A diary about someone no-one cares about.



1. May 7th, 2015

Dear Diary;

Hi. I'm Someone. That's my name. I'm Someone, No-one, nothing. But just call me Someone. It's easier. And it's what I'll be calling myself, because, hey. It's the name everyone in my life calls me in my life. "Hey, did you see her drawing?" "No, who?" "Oh, I can't remember. Someone around here."

So, today started out regular. Got out of bed, got dressed, took a shower. That's what I always do. It's a force of habit.

I stayed down in my room. Because I didn't want to go upstairs. I refused to face the day yet. As soon as I leave my room, reality hits me in the face like a slap, and suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with the high expectations everyone around me have set. I hate it, I'm only as capable as anyone else.

On the ride to school, I got my dad to put My Chemical Romance on Spotify. I had gotten my middle-of-the-quarter school Progress Report. Straight A's as usual.  He told me if some emo band like them keeps my grades up, than he'll listen to them on a 15 minute ride.

At least I got to listen to Helena and I'm Not Okay before school. That was an upside.

When I got to school, I swear everyone was looking at me. The popular girls, the boys, my friends. I ran out of clean clothes, so I had to use some of my cousin's hand me downs. Instead of my ripped skinny jeans, my chains, my Peirce the Veil, MCR and Fall Out Boy shirts. All I had was my jacket and my boots. And a white and blue-polka-dotted dress that went down to at most my mid thigh, that my cousin gave me a year ago.

It felt weird.

It felt stupid.

It felt like I was a freak show, and was put on act.

But he smiled at me.

This one boy I had been crushing on for weeks finally smiled at me. We had talked, we had laughed, we were friends. We are friends. But I finally got him to smile at me, diary. Smile at me without us talking, or laughing, or just being buddy-buddy. I just wish it wasn't because I put on a stupid girly, frilly, stupid brightly colored dress.

Sometimes I wonder about my life, diary. Sometimes, I wonder about my life, the life of Someone no-one cares about.

At lunch, I was walking behind my 'friends.' They were talking about things that were happening in their lives. Like they got new dogs, or they're rich uncle just came to visit or other things like that. They just boasted, while I had nothing. I was a poor girl, with a poor father, with three poor younger siblings. We could barely afford to eat.

People kept cutting me in the lunch line, quietly slipping in front of of me, or pushing and shoving, laughing every time I fell to the ground. I became separated from my 'friends.'

When I finally did get out of the lunch line, I had to find a place to sit, and eat. I usually eat outside, but It was raining. Hard. And I usually eat in the bathroom, when it's raining, but they had the strict teachers on lunch duty. So I sat in a corner of the cafeteria, Near the lunchroom.

As I was walking, I heard giggles behind me, diary. I already knew who they were. Popular Girl 1, Popular Girl 2, and Popular Girl 3.

"Something as cute as that dress should not be on something as hideous as you," PG1 giggled, her little cup of ketchup in hand. They all had one. I turned around, dreading what was going to happen next.

"So we'll make it fit you. We'll just make it hideous for you," PG3 had said, before they all threw their ketchup onto me. Some landed in my hair, some on my shoes, some onto my dress and my jacket.

"Shit," I murmured, flinging it off my hands. "Fuck you." I said, before stalking off to the nurse.

It was a shitty day, diary. It was a shitty day.


Signing off,


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