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In this post, I am going to give you a brief rendition of what my childhood was like. I lived in my grandmother's basement with my young parents and older brother for the first two years of my life.
Me. a "popular"?. hah!!. no!!. i just have people that care about me thats all. Me. a "crybaby"?. no!!. im just bipolar, a teenage girl on PUBERTY, and deal with shit. Me. a "teachers pet"?. please!!.
They tell you To do it Nobody cares They think it's a joke For the school kids to fair The others all tell you To do it You start to believe But you dare not cry You try and tell someone But it...
It's REALY hard being me for example in a spotty ,fat unpopular , nerdy ,14 year old teenager. I get picked on a lot . Anyway my name is Ned Anderson I get called nerdy Ned .
How many times must a girl suffer. Jenny was too young to fear life. You see, Jenny was different from the other girls in her class, her school in fact.
The big bad bully who thinks he's just that cool. The bully who every one thinks is the nicest kid around who I just don't understand.
It was a cold December afternoon, the wind felt like ice sweeping through my hair. The snow laid on the ground, frozen to the dry land, but the trees looking like a winter wonderland.
I want to build a treehouse A place where I can read, I could laugh and smile, And feed the birds a seed. I want to have a treehouse High up in the tree, So I can climb up and hide, From my enemy.
Tea cold, rain, still going, the date. It's been raining too long to remember.
They want perfection. They don't want me. I am not what they want. I am not perfect. The world wants perfect. I am unaccepted. I am unlikable. I am unprotected from their attacks. Their name calling.
People hate her. Why. Because she's weird. You're pretty damn weird too. Is it because she used to dress in black. You wear black too. Is it because a cute haircut makes her look like a boy to you.
The people around me are being sucked in, sucked into the drama surrounding us. Some can escape the quicksand, while others are sinking down into it's depths. He cuts, and you make it about you.
He had never known the feeling, to be loved and to love back. So watching movies or reading books about such gave his mind a slight buzz.
The F on my paper was the least of my worries. I had bigger problems to deal with, like John getting gum in my hair, and me, stupidly, trying to cut it put myself. Fail.
Mel opens her eyes to night sky, all her memories of pain gone for the moment. But then they rush back, trying to kill her on the inside, so that they can have her body of sticks and stones.