(This story is coming from the pov of the hated person, TW: abuse, drugs, alchol, suicide,selfharm.)

Everytime i say a word another bloody imprint in my arm, i love the pain, its a reminder that i can still feel. At this point im not wondering what i can do to get people to like me, im wondering what im gonna use to kill my self, the shoelace isnt strong enough, the clothes hangers would snap, i could start a bath and bring the toster in with me, mabye jump off the london bridge? I cant believe myself im being so fucking selfish.

(At the bus stop)

Waiting for the bus to come takes so effing long- oh damn he’s hot, wait what the fuck thats not right, I cant say that. i motion my hand upwards to try to signal him over to me, why am i doing this? Why am i so weird? Holy shit he is accually walking over here, he sits next to me, Hes probably just gonna pick on me or something. Then out of the blue he says "Can you put your number on my phone" im internaly screaming, why would he ask me that, for what? "for what?" I respond back calmly "you seemed cute and fun to be around, do you want to come to ash high bbq next thursday?" Woah woah woah, cute? Fun? "Theres a ash high bbq?" i say back. "Yea theres one every year" he says "but only some people get to go" oh my god am i getting invited to the popular kid bbq "oh okay" i cheerily say back. I put my number in his phone and he walked away with a head nod and a wave, and i did the same back.

Today has been the best day yet and im not gonna end the happy day, i texted my mom "im gonna hang at a friends house" and of course she says "evan why do you think i would care

(EDIT: i just realized i didn’t give "hot guy" a name so his name is Adrian now👍)