To whom it may concern,

I don't know what to say here. . .I guess good-bye?
I've never written a suicide note. I never had to.
I guess I have now. . .Anyway I'm sorry.
I don't mean for this to hurt anyone, I was just tired.
Tired of crying. Tired of the lonliness. Tired of life.
To Mom and Dad: I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say.
I was a mistake. Something you didn't want. And I'm sorry for ruining your life. I could've acted better, acted older than I was, acted like you wanted.
But I didn't, and I'm sorry. You pushed me away, that's part of what led me to this. I love you both, so much, even if you don't love me. I understand,
who can love their son who commited suicide? No one can. I get it.
I never though it'd end this way, guess I was wrong. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did. It wouldn't matter now, it's done with. And I'm gone.

To my friends: I love you all so much
You were like the family I didn't have. Love, caring, friendship. I want to thank you all. Every one of you.
We all had ups and downs, and I'm sorry. I was always there to help, now I'm gone. I'm sorry I can't help anymore. I'm sorry everyone! I'm sorry. . . Good-bye, forever and ever...

This was the note they found on my desk in my room on Sunday March 21st. I guess it was the best I could come up with. Kinda long, but oh well. My name, as you can tell, is Alexander Hamilton.I was my parent's mistake. Their accident. Their unwanted creation. I guess my suicide surprised most of my town. I mean I was the popular high school cheerleader at school. I had tons of friends. But that doesn't make someone happy. Love makes someone happy, and I don't mean the love of a friend or an aunt or a dog or a boyfriend or girlfriend. I mean the love of a parent. Of a proud father when you're in a stunt that hits perfectly. Of a loving mother who's comferting you after a breakup. Of the two lovers who created you. Who had you and raised you. The love every child should get. It seems I was one of the few unlucky who didn't get their fair share. I mean the first three years were alright, if you can count them considering I don't remember them! I was mommy's baby, daddy's little boy.

Most people thought I was lucky; popular, cheerleader, had thousands of friends, and twice as many boys and girls chasing after me. But I wasn't. This made it all worse actually. To see my friend Laurens talking to his mom at the movies when she picked us up. To see the strong bond between them. It was something I'd lost long ago, something I once shared with my mother. Not anymore. This all made me worse. Made the yearning I held for my mother and father's love harder to hold. I needed their love. I wanted it. So bad, but I didn't get it. Not once. I was the friend who comferted my sad friends. I was the one who you'd see walking down the hall on one of your worst days, I'd smile and try and cheer you up. I was him. But inside I was dying. I was yearning for someone to embrace me. For someone to care about me, to ask me how my day was, to tell me everything was going to be alright. I was waiting for someone to care about me. That day never came. Sadly. Well I finally decided I wanted to die, after all the ridicule my parents put me through. I was often called stupid, a slut, a jackass, a dick. Pretty much anything you could think of. I was considered evil, a bitchy witch to my family. Every one of them. All this name calling, beatings and threats finally pushed me over the rocky cliff I was balanced on. The bruises that never seemed to fade. The heart that was broken at age three. The girl who was ruined from the start.

I was a mistake. An accident. I was nothing. I problem. I couldn't take it anymore. I took my life thinking nobody cared about me. It was all that hung on my mind every day of my life. The ignored messages to people avoiding me at school. It was pathetic, but I cut for attention a few times. It turned into a habit, a bad one. It got to the point where I had deep scars covering my thighs, hips, arms and waist. It was complete hell.

I watched as my mother found my hanging body. I saw her scatter to get me down and scream for my father. I remember when they finally gave up apon realizing I was gone. I saw my father's eyes dance to the small piece of paper I left. The last thing I left them was a small piece of paper explaining myself.

They still search for the closer. The deeper reasons why. The blamed themselves for never seeing the signs.

I never made anyone happy, I tried. I tried my entire life. I had a boyfriend for some time, but I done nothing but ruin his life.

He went from ignoring me, to plain old ditching everything.

I guess I died at the wrong time, I made my choice and there was no going back. I regret seeing everyone that knew me blame themselves. My best friends, my parents, my Ex. They all thought they killed me.

I'm sorry...