~ Chapter Two ~

Dear Diary,

I have never realized how stupid I am. I'm probably the biggest idiot this world can offer. I never want to trust a living soul ever again. Every one 's cruel, every human being living on this planet are disgusting lying bastards.

I hate Heechul. I hate him. He lied to me. He made fun of me, swore at me, took pictures of my hideous tearful face. All his friends were there. ALL of them. From those bratty spoiled girls to those stuck up flowerboys. They made fun of me, called me fat and ugly. They yanked on my hair and laughed at my red jacket. They started gossiping about the successful prank they pulled on me.

I have never been so humiliated in my life. I seriously thought Heechul was different, I really thought he was. But no. I was wrong, very very very very wrong. He's just like them, he always has been. He treated me like I was crap; like I was some peasant who he could just rule over and laugh at.

I don't know who to trust anymore. Every one hates me. Every one wants to see me in pain. There's no one who will listen to me, be with me, smile and laugh and sing with me. All I ever wanted was a friend. That's it, that's all I'm asking for. Just someone to talk to. Obviously there must be something wrong with me considering all the terrible things that has been happening.

I couldn't think straight all weekend. Not after that.

My parents are still on that business trip of theirs. So I have been sitting in my room, all alone, staring at my scissors for the past forty-eight hours. The only thing running through my mind is death. I just want to end this. All of it. I cut myself a couple times. It made me feel really weird, but I liked it. I just laid on my bathroom floor, daydreaming about the color white while looking at my wrist. The blood was dripping on my cheeks. The pain felt amazing, sort of, out of this world. It made me feel real, like I was human, not some mythical creature.

I tried making deeper cuts. By doing so, I started getting light headed and weak. I probably look terrible.

I think I'm dying now. I really do. The only motivation I have for writing in you, my oh trusty diary, is the Advil I took a couple minutes ago to relieve a bit of the pain. I don't think it's working though because the letters on the page are getting all blurry. But now, I think I'm the happiest I've ever been. I know I won't wake up tomorrow, I won't see any of my class mates, I won't see my teachers or parents. The sun won't burn my eyes and the cold morning breeze won't freeze my skin. My alarm clock won't scream in my ears, my pillow won't be flooded in tears.

I'll be some where else. Where no one can touch me. Where fear and sorrow don't exist.

No more crying, no more pain. I won't have to deal with...with what? I can't remember anymore. I'm getting distracted by the blood now. It's leaking through the fabric, I can see it running down my arm and onto the white carpet. I've never realized how hypnotizing the color is. The thick red staining my floor. I wish I cut myself more often to see the amazing contrast.

I wonder what Heechul is doing now. I bet he's still laughing about our 'date'. That jack . I hate him with a passion. I hope he feels terrible once he finds out I've committed suicide. Having that in his conscience for the rest of his worthless life would be fun. He killed somebody, well...not necessarily. He opened the option of death, for me. It's just as bad. Causing someone to end their existence because of how bad you've treated them.

I don't know why, but I'm laughing now. Have I found my happiness? I'm such a fool. I'm an idiot. What am I doing? I'm dying, I'm actually dying. I'm so lame and worthless. I can't even comfort myself...I'm just like them, I'm laughing, at myself, silly, disgusting, fat, me. I can't even be on my own side. I even find myself as a piece of crap. That's what I am. A piece of crap. And that's what I'll always be.

But no. I can't always be a piece of crap. I'm dying...I'M DYING.

I don't think I've ever been so afraid in my life. I don't want to die. Not anymore. I'm too big of a wimp to die. There must be some one out there who can help me. Anyone. I can't write properly anymore, there are endless amount of tears stinging my eyes.

It hurts. It does. My wrist is burning, it's so painful, I can't even begin to explain it to you. I'm such a stupid bastard. Committing suicide isn't the answer to things. But I can't turn back now. I'm dying...and...there's nothing I can do about that.

My heart is beating like crazy. I'm breathing like a freaking pig and there's blood every where. I never noticed how much blood a human actually had until now. I'm starting to see little men running around my desk. I think they're trying to open my cell phone. It's so heavy though, I don't understand why they would even try using it. They're stupid, they don't know how weak they actually are. Wait...they opened it, what are they trying to do now? Are they calling nine-one-one? They are...the phone is dialing...I can hear someone saying hello, but...I'm too weak to answer. I open my mouth...but nothing is coming out...

I want to scream help, but I can't. The police are telling me things, but I can't understand what he's saying. All I hear is the beating of my slowing heart and my breath thinning. I just dropped my phone. I'm an idiot.

Now I can't ask anyone for help...maybe the police can track my phone...and...find me.

Writing is getting so hard now. My arm is heavier than the universe. Every time I lift my pencil just a tad, I break a sweat. My whole body is like a swimming pool. My vision is darkening. I can tell my hand writing looks terrible.

I'm so tired. But I need to keep writing...my eyes are drooping...no, I need to write my name...I want people to know who this diary belongs to...my eyes feel like they weigh a tone. I can barely keep them open...I just need to sign my name...

Sunyu-

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This ended up depressing...

Well, thanks for reading :)

-LonDon323