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spread on the hill. Noting all the dips rivets. Brave souls go before to, mocking your cowardice. This hill is big and it’s name ecos to growl of a bear. Dearing all to go. You look down again and start to turn, even though my feet in perfect triangle formation. Then I go flying forward from the hard push of the monsters behind. I let out a screech as I welcome death.

Yet again my imagination takes over. That’s not what happend. I was skiing at Cristity mountain in Bruce wisconsin. It was so much fun, then came the double black diamond. Fun. Sure i’ve been skiing 4 times before, but never here and it’s been a while. The hill wasn’t that bad when I was done. But it was in the twenty minutes I stood at the top of it. Yes twenty minutes. It took forever and then my friend pushed me down. Her name is……

You know, maybe that’s not important. Well, it starts with M. So that’s what I will call her. M is the best. But she wanted me to go down and so she made me. I will never forget it. But I didn’t hit the trees like I thought that I would. And all was good, but this year when we go, I’ll get her back. Watch out M, here I come.

Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound like some creepy psycho.

Replacement

 “You are worthless.”

“Ugly *****.”

“Why can’t you die in a hole?”

“Get away you ******.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“You're not my kid, I don’t love you.”

“You will always be like her.”

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

I have to deal with this every day of my life. I can’t do anything about it, if I say anything. She yells if my face. But now that’s normal.

When I go to school things are actually better. Sometimes we get together well, we laugh. Then there are times when all she does is glare at me, call me names and yell. I don’t understand.

Then there is her “real” daughter. Since I’m not her “real” daughter I don’t get treated the

same way ever.  I have to do hard chores and she does not. I say anything and I get yelled at called names and punished. She screams at her and nothing happens. Sure she gets yelled at but that’s it.

The scary thing is, I don’t know what I’m going to do when I get older. Right now I’m 14. Soon I can get my license. Then a car.

I have no idea how I’m going to do that though. I don’t have any money, i mean none. The last time I looked I had $50. I can’t get a job, I have to stay home and do chores. I can’t do anything. And I’m not even sure she cares. I told her about it and she said it was my problem.  But no, it’s not only mine. It’s her’s for not letting me get a job.

Sometimes I go to sleep, hearing the yelling of my parents. Right now they are going through a rough spot. And she blames it all on me.

“We were fine before you came.”

“You should have never came here.”

Harsh? Yeah. She’s really good at blaming other people. For everything. Even if she did it there will be someone to blame.

Well everyone, except herself.

Sometimes I stay up late doing dishes. And when I’m out doing chores, my step sister will be on her tablet. Of course, that’s normal.

You know death is a serious thing. And yet I can sometimes say i would be okay if I died. Nobody would care. She would think that it’s the best thing in the world. More than once she’s said she doesn’t want me. The only reason that I live with them is because I don’t have anywhere else to go.

I think that my friends would be the only ones that cared. And only some of them at that. But as soon as that person is no longer breathing? They were the best people in the world, and everything will be different without them. Bla, bla bla. They can just shove it up there *** for all I care.

Maybe they will notice me if I’m gone.

Okay, they kind of notice me. By they, I mean all the popular kids and stuff. Like I was saying, they only notice me when I’m in there group for work, or I have to present to the class.

When we first started school, some of them actually watched me. And she still does.

It’s not like I’m popular or pretty. So, I don't know what it is.

I have blond hair that goes past my shoulder. Probably by 5 or 6 inches. I have bright blue eyes, at least that’s what I’ve been told. I have a lot of freckles, normal skin. And glasses.

So yes, I’m a loser. And not attractive in anyway.

Sometimes I really hate life, I really do.

It’s that point when I’m tired and then something happens and then something else happens. And then I’m still at the bottom.

Okay, to get this strait. I am grateful for everything that she does. I’m not saying that I don’t care that she does stuff for me. It’s how she treats me.

I can't tell you how that all ended, not yet. 

 

I can’t take it anymore.

I can’t just go to school and pretend like nothing happened. Like everything is fine, even though it’s not.

I can’t go home and accept it.

Do you ever feel it was okay to die?

That ‘s how I feel. If I died right now, I would be okay. And I think that everyone else will to.

Like today, I went home and filled the dryer with clothes. But of course she said that I took too long. When my step sister was sitting on her bed.

I went to put my boots and got lost staring into space. I rolled my eyes and she yelled at me. Saying that I was worthless.

I hate it. I walk off to take a breath. I did not want to blow up on her. That would be really bad.

Again I got yelled at. She said that I was a worthless*****.

I cried, of course I did. She said that I was worthless. Then she yelled at me again. All I wanted was attention. That’s what she said. I was crying for attention.

And if I told my dad, she would make my life a living hell. But she does that everyday. Every time she says that I’m ugly. Every time that I have to wake up knowing that I will never be enough.

When everytime you look in the mirror, you wish who you saw wasn’t you. And every time knowing that you should be different.

No matter what she has said, I still liked her.

Even though I know that she doesn't feel the same.

I’m sick of life. Knowing I will never be good enough.

Shamed School

Shame. It’s the feeling when you know you did something wrong. When you know you have to change it, but can’t. Sometimes you know how to help and figure it out. But most of the time that’s not how it is. You lay in bed, stare at the wall and think about what is done. Then there are those that make a joke about it. They laugh and think it’s funny. This happened just today. We found out that a is “not well” and automatically jumped to the conclusion that he quit.

Why is that? Is it because last year our grade made a teacher quit? Or is it because we want him to quit. But what if something was really wrong. Maybe he’s in the hospital and where her laughing at him. Saying all these things that he did. Why would you be proud that you scared a teacher away? Is it your goal for them to not like shell lake because of you and what you do? You can’t be thankful that you can learn. There are many places around that world that don’t have the right to go to school. They can’t have teachers to scare away and be rude to. You shame this school every time you are sent to the office for something you did. Every Time you cheer when a teacher leaves. Every Time you can’t realize that you have the right to go to school. I’m not saying that I like school, because I would be lying. I’m just saying that everything that we do has a result, weather it’s go or not, it’s still there. Shaming us to tell the truth. To do something right. And sometimes you need shame to tell you what you're doing wrong.


This is true, all of it. And I really hated the school that I went to. I liked the teachers and some of the kids, but the school it self was stupid. I'm glad I got out of there 

Sorrow

The Same 

 

 Do what you want to do

Be what you want to be

See what you want to see

But then you look at me

 

I don’t know what I feel

You know how to peel all the layers away

You know how to steal my heart

You just know how to make the deal

 

Why when I look to the sky I see your eyes

How is it that I never want to say bye

When all I can do is think of you when lying in bed

 

I care to share

That we would make a great pair

If you want to go there

Don’t be afraid to share

 

Do you feel that same

Or do you feel shame

Am i the one to blame

With all of my shame

Did you ever feel the same



I had a crush, of

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