MercyisRussia

I hate myself. I hate myself so much it hurts. Just looking at the disgusting image of my face makes me want to scrape it off. I hate this face. I’d use my hands to take my face off if I didn’t have a fear of blood and a low pain tolerance. Ï wish I was pretty, so then the eyes of others would want to look at me, not find a reason to look away. I wish I was tall, so I could tower above the thoughts of others. I wish I wasn’t in this horrible body. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate me. ~~~ Again, I wake up from a restless night of sleep. The bags of fatigue u

When I returned home My Aunt's car was in the driveway, an alarm to say that she was home. "Fuck," I thought aloud, the comment was supposed to stay inside my empty head, but it's not like there is anyone to hear me. I trudged up the driveway, carelessly awaiting new bruises. When I got to the door I rang the doorbell. I could hear some rustling from inside the house and then some rushing footsteps following behind. "Who is it?" My Aunt called happily, a façade of hers. She opened the door, and when she saw my face, closed it. "Fucking bitch," I muttered. I rang the doorbell again, it's not like I cared to eat her slop food, or even t

A letter? Is it real? Is this real? Am I dreaming? Those were the  exact thoughts sprinting through my mind at that fateful second. When I opened the letter, cautiously, it revealed a very real looking letter of admission. So now, here I am, standing in front of the girls' dorm with nothing but my belongings and my letter of acceptance. The guard at the gate told me to go straight to the girls' dorm and then they would 'check me in' and 'get me set up'. Whatever that meant. I strode over to the door and took a hold of a noble knocker, and knocked with all my might. While I stood in front of the door it occurred to me just how nice just the g