They Call Me Worthless

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It’s not like I have friends or anything. I mean I’ve had friends before. Friends that I could hang out with and do what normal teenagers do. But that’s not how it is anymore. I guess people change; maybe it’s that I’ve changed too much. We’ve grown older, juniors in high school now. It’s either you’re in the “It” crowd or nothing to Them.

I’m nothing. Worthless is what they call me. They don’t care how they hurt me, physically or emotionally. None of that matters just as long as they can see the pain burning in my eyes. The fear is what is the most gut-wrenching. When I wake up in the morning, I don’t want to go to school. The feeling of not being safe and always in harm terrifies me. I never know what They are going to do to me. Will They cut me deeper this time? Will They lock me in the janitors closet for more than a day this time? Make me jump off a higher bridge?

There’s no one to go to. Like I said before I have no friends. No parents who really care about me. Teachers at school are supposed to keep you safe right? Ha, like joining in with Them to torture me every day is keeping me safe. I’m just waiting for the day they cut me to deep. Strangle me to hard. Beat me too much. I can’t wait to die. Dying sounds like Heaven. I probably sound like a lunatic, but who cares? You don’t. Nobody does.

You’re probably wondering why I don’t kill myself. Well first off, it’s a sign of defeat. They would throw a party for being the “victors” in this fight. They want me dead, I want myself dead. They’re waiting for me to do the dirty work, but I’m waiting for them to finish me off. I guess you could call it a lose lose situation.


You couldn’t say that They are just cruel. They are not even close to cruel anymore. It’s more like They’re vultures hunting for their prey. They’re the vultures and I’m their prey if you haven’t already figured that out. Just like vultures, they swarmed towards me wherever I went. But these weren’t just regular vultures; They were gay-hating vindictive vultures here to pick the meat off my bones. And by God I’d let them succeed.

Just call me Road kill I guess. With Their precise eye sight and keen sense of smell, I can never hide without them finding me. It’s like they have a gay radar, following my every move. I will never be alone. My only wish is to be alone forever. Or dead. I think dead is best though.

As of right now, I’m sitting in this ditch. Blood is pouring out of my body onto my clothes, staining them dark red. I know it hurts all over but I’m too numb to feel the pain. Maybe I should just let Them win, maybe just this once. Than everything would be over with. I can feel my heartbeat getting slower, I know I’m losing to much blood. I can’t move nor get any help. No one will find me here, I’m all alone just like a I wanted to be.

I can feel my eyes roll to the back of my bloody head. I can’t feel my body any more. Not even a slight bit of pain, it’s over. I know it, They have won. The Vultures have succeeded. I am nothing and always will be nothing.





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