My Letter

Chapter 1

Dear Mr/Mrs/Miss/Ms,

Dear person reading this letter,

I know I'm not the best guy, I know I've screwed everything up. I know I'm truly sorry. I listen to your cries, I listen to your worries. When you cry, I cry. When you smile, I fake a smile. Because deep down I'm not happy. I'd just sit there and cry, then I'd realise that no one cared. I'd had enough. My temper was controlling me. Every time I saw someone hurt, I'd level up. Pretend I'm worth better, but I won't lie, I'm a failure. I got everyone hating on someone that I didn't like. I know she slept with my girlfriend when we were still dating, but she must have some sort of reason for hurting me like that. So leave her alone! It's me you should be hating on. I'm the one that is pathetic, I'm the one that you have to put up with. I'm the one everyone hates. I'm the one that can't control his temper, and that gets me into all sorts of trouble. I'm the one with the frowning face. I know you really don't care. I know you all want me to go. I know you think I'm some monster. Well this monster loves someone. This monster won't ever be loved back. This monster cries every night. This monster is the boy you dare to call your friend. I'm a nobody. You'll never understand how it feels to be me. I hope you never do. I want to make sure you are safe, all of you. The best way for that to happen is that you have to leave. You have to stay away from me. I'm not mentally stable, I'm not mentally happy. I'm just a pathetic pshyco. I know I'm drowning in my mind. My dreams are attacking me. I know I'm not okay. I know you hate me, so why are you still reading this? Are you looking for more excuses to bully me. I might as well spit it out. I have: ADHD, paranoia, schizophrenia, epilepsy, I used to have a disease, but I had an operation today. I see things that aren't there, it's like I'm tripping, but there's no way to stop the pain. May I ask why you're still reading this? It's not like you care about me. If you could see the damage you've done, meh, you still wouldn't stop. I'm going. You know, somewhere I can't be made to feel a fool. The only question is... Rope, knife or gun?

-The Boy You Hate

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