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Just Be YouI'm just an emotionless, frowning, anti-social 'body.'
Me? A human? No.
They can't even begin to consider that I'm a living being with a soul.
I do not exist unless they need something from me, which is quite rare.
The only time they see me smiling is when I'm with my boyfriend or my friends.
'Why does she smile then?' They ask.
Why do you think?
You push and shove me around, and I've become hard-hearted, shutting myself out from all of you and becoming independent; I work and stand alone.
Of course, I do get lonely at times.
But it gives me time to think, which most of you don't/can't do.
I'm quiet; I think rather than talk; whatever I say, you don't pay attention to anyway.
It's kind of nice in a way, not being the center of attention, not being a part of the crowd...
I'm just a body to them; I'm of no importance.
It's kind of sad when you're used to people thinking less of you.
But then again, it's sadder when you give up hope.
Why give up hope when the best revenge is to sa
Lesson 2Dear Friend,
When you constantly give and expect nothing in return, you really don't feel bad when someone doesn't return the favor. That's how it is with me. However the love of my life decided he's having issues trusting me and whatnot for something I did awhile ago that I already made up for by going to Confession and telling him just yesterday. I know God forgave me. But he hasn't. He said he did. So why doesn't he trust me? He told me something he did awhile ago and I forgave him on the spot and I still trust him. And he doesn't return it...not yet. He's even stopped being sweet with me. I just wanna die. I knew there'd be consequences, but did he have to take it that far? He's emotionally unstable, and he said many things that hurt me. I've been hurt before, but just not like that. I wasn't ready. It was my fault that I even did that, I know, but getting upset at someone just makes them feel like such a failure, like they can't do anything right. I've been trying to feel comforta
Snow Days Ch. 2Patricia awoke to find herself on a couch and a warm blanket on top of her. She yawned and sat up, and her eyes widened with awe. She stared at Santa's workshop and examined the fancy woodwork all around the room. She took her ear muffs off and attempted to fix her now electrified hair when the door suddenly opened, and she turned to see Santa, Jack, Sandman, The Easter Bunny, and Tooth walk in. Not knowing what to do, she simply stood and made a bun, waving shyly after she finished.
Jack walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Guys, this is Patricia Avery."
Tooth flew over. Three of her small, identical fairy helpers were with her, including one identical to Tooth. Patricia couldn't help but stare in amazement at the small fairies. "I'm the Tooth Fairy." She said with a smile, and she all of a sudden grabbed Patricia's mouth and looked in. "I've seen better teeth, but…" Patricia pulled away and rubbed her mouth in annoyance. "I'm gonna get braces soon." She said shyly.
Lesson 1Dear Friend,
It's hilarious to me how I now know the truth about why no one made fun of me during freshman year. I was dating a handsome guy, someone who played soccer, was pretty much liked by the whole school and wasn't considered a "loser." All that changed when I broke up with him and started dating someone else, someone I related to better: someone who was considered the stereotype "loser" like me.
And so it began, the gossip and the rumors. Not like we care, really. It's just so...peculiar how people in a Catholic school are no better than those in a public school. A friend of mine who moved told me that the classes at her other school were a lot quieter, unlike at my school where everyone is so loud and disrespectful.
It seems as though my boyfriend and I are the only ones who take our faith seriously. Everyone else doesn't or they're not even Catholic and feel like bashing it is their whole purpose in life. I'm almost just as miserable there as I was back in my elementary schoo
Snow Days Ch. 1Note: I kind of shifted from First-Person point of view to third-person. Was that a good idea? Leave your thoughts in the comments! I welcome all feedback, and please read the description.
Edit: Well, fixed the story. Just changed from First-person to third-person. It may sound better. Hope you enjoy!
A thick, white blanket of snow covered the landscape of the state in which dirty blonde, 15 year old Patricia Avery lived: Colorado. It's December and Christmas is just around the corner. It's her favorite time of year, because every time she had the chance, she'd go out to see Jack. He's quite the fellow; very mischievous. She's known him since she was a child. As for him? Well, he's been around far longer than anyone. He's every girl's dream boy…he's her dream boy, too.
There's no point in denying it.
She put on her red scarf and black, furry boots, slipped on a fur coat, cheetah printed at the collar, and black gloves, and headed outside. She smile
The Break-UpThe typical breakup is supposed to be heartbreaking. You never wanna see your ex again and you hate him and hate yourself for loving him, etc.
My breakup was different.
Overconfidence had taken over my mind. I was so sure my boyfriend and I wouldn't break up, no matter what. I was convinced we could overcome any obstacle and that nothing could tear us apart.
I recently fell in love with someone else, and my heart was aching to belong to him, but I denied myself over and over, making myself believe a lie that I still wanted to be with my boyfriend.
My boyfriend and I had a talk about relationships one night. He said this:
"If you're thinking about someone else while you're in a relationship, it's better to call it quits" because sooner or later, you're going to hurt the person you're with by doing something stupid with the other guy you're falling for and aching to be with.
I was scared. I was so scared. I didn't wanna tell him that that was what was happening to me at tha
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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