I shouldn't be alive.

The world fucking hates me.

I get good results, I feel happy for once.

I always knew it. There's a fucking price to pay.

Firstly,  I almost got knocked down by a freaking truck which came out of nowhere.

The next, I fell down my bike (again)

I had to walk 10 agonising minutes back home with my bike with crying.

And when I actually reached home, my brother told my father what happened.

And, me, being me, thought he cared and was worried.

Now, you know what the first thing he did?

He laughed.

He fucking laughed.

He laughed about my injury. Now that was the time I cried. I'm just too fragile, eh.

He didn't even help me to get in the house.

He just sat there, watching movies on his fucking ipad.

Finally, when I slammed the fucking door, he just kept freaking screaming about caning me and beating me up.

Honestly, I don't care anymore.

I just wanna die, that way I'll be prone to suffering.

It'll be more peaceful.

I don't need to care about what shit happens anymore.