Anything bold is our protagonist

Anything italic is the voice in his head.

you useless fuck. why can't you do anything right?

you're gonna have to do better than that. my parents tell me that everyday.

this is how i have conversations with myself. pathetic? i know. but no matter how much i try to stop, it's like it comes back without warning.

i'm my favorite bully.

it'll remain that way for a very long time.

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ever since i started the 9th grade, i had a certain plan that i wanted to follow for the year:

☉ get over an 85 for everything

☉ don't start problems

☉ ask for help when needed

☉ don't cry this year

right now as i'm telling the story, i feel like my eyes are a leaky faucet.

always dripping no matter how much you try to paste it closed.

at the beginning it was going well.

i could smile as if there wasn't a problem in the world that could bring me down. that was because i thought i could overcome anything. that's what i thought.

god, my plans never go how they were supposed to. and i never have a plan B. everything came crashing down before my eyes. my grades were crashing down. i felt sick all the time for any reasons. i started to have a boiling hatred for school. it was to the point that seeing my friends was not even a good reason to wake up anymore.

useless fuck.

the hell? who are you??

i'm your fairy godmother.

cut the bullshit. who the actual fuck are you?

i'm you but i actually can point out shit better than you and right now, you need to take a look at reality.

think i'm just fine, thank you. now can you please leave?

why should i? the worst is just beginning.

weirdly, he was right. hell was only beginning.

you need to listen to me sometimes.

shut the fuck up.

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