3. The story

It was one of the worst and best days of my life. I was ready to die, my best friends hated me, my family don't care anymore, I had given up on all hope that would have been left. Why couldn't I just die. I walk by myself. Hood up, headphones in and straight to the desolate café and cried.

Why me?

Why are you doing this?

Why don't you just take me now?

I didn't speak when I ordered. I just pointed at the black coffee and got back to writing.

I was writing a story. One about a girl who doesn't fit in anywhere, Spoilers, even she has a happy ending.

"I won't", I tell myself tears now drenching the papers. "You know you won't Dodie get yourself together you stupid girl"

This is a regular day in my brain. It never seems to stop.

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