Do I really need to title this…?
Hm, oh well.
It’s basically just me questioning what to do with my life and how it could possibly help my future… Honestly, that’s part of what I’m thinking.
But what I’m mainly thinking is—why this life? Why me? Of all people, why did this woman choose this person?
I don’t like it. Because when she’s not here, this person becomes someone else. Someone more violent. Imagine this: someone asking you if you want them to hit you with a steel cup. Just—imagine that.
Like… who the hell would even say that? Unless there’s something mentally wrong with you. Right? That’s got to be it.
Heh… I don’t even know anymore. Because everything this person has done to me—none of it made me happy. I can still remember June 2018. The day my face got messed up because of a stupid choice they made.
I didn’t even get a “sorry” or anything. All they said was, “If you had listened, that wouldn’t have happened.”
What the fuck do you mean?! You literally pushed me into a damn dresser! Over something stupid. I blacked out. I didn’t tell you. My nose bled and no one helped me. Not one person.
The only person who helped me… was me. While the rest of you just stood there, talking—watching me.
Instead of helping… or even just saying sorry.
But I did get help. Just not in time.
It was only when I went to school and people actually worried about me. I was sent to the nurse’s office because my nose started bleeding again.
My counselor came in, wanting to know what happened—but I couldn’t say anything. Because if I did, you’d get in trouble.
After that, they called my mom, my grandpa, and my aunt to pick me up. They all came, worried. They saw my face. I was taken to the hospital that day.
And of course, they called you.
But you didn’t care.
I don’t care how long ago that pain was—I will never forgive you. I’m still hurt.
No care. No love. Nothing.
You’re just a thing to me now. A plain stranger.