Like anyone cared where I was, or who I was.
I don't have to answer. Until you know the question.
I suppose I'll be remembered as dull. Timid. No one ever knew me. People came. They went. I was kind, I think. Not sympathetic, but considerate of others. I always gave up my place in line. I loaned out pencils and paper, or let people take them from me. I never reported a sexual assault.
I know it's hard on her. If I don't tell her she'll kill me." He pauses. "That was supposed to be funny.
I'd decided to write him and tell him to leave me alone. Please, in a nice way, go away, I really can't deal with you.
Why couldn't I have a fatal disease? It'd be so much easier.
I hear you. I just don't believe a word you say.
I may be fat and ugly, but I'm not stupid. If anyone had ever gotten past my looks, they might've noticed I have a brain.
Why are people so cruel? What did I ever do to them?
Because no one can be trusted.
I just want the pain to end.
No one ever found out what was happening inside me. How the pain was eating me away. No one ever came to my rescue, or stood up for me.
Really? It seems too good to be true. I don't trust it. I don't trust anyone.
The sad truth is, they should never trust me.
They didn't guarantee you'd come out a whole person.
I had to fight so hard not to cry.
You can't trust machines. You can't trust people.
I wish I was invisible to him, to everyone.
But its not funny. Not to people who've been told they're losers their whole lives and believe they will never be anything else.
I hated him. I hated them all. They made me hate myself even more than I already did.
Yeah, I hear the truth. But this is my truth.
I got singled out. I don't know why. Why do people always target me? Is it because I'm short and they figure I can't fight back? They're right, I can't, but it's not because I'm vertically challenged.
I think about my choice. Either outcome is bleak. If I stay and live through high school, go to college, get a job, what will ever change? This blackness inside will never go away. I don't make friends; I'll always be alone. If I go, at least there's hope of peace. Chance of a new and better life on the other side.
Who becomes you? No one. No one should become me. When I die, I don't want my body or soul inhabited. I wouldn't wish me on anyone.
I throw him two bones: a smile and a nod. Both lies.
