There's something wrong with me.   I don't know what it is, and I can't see it. But I just know that there's something wrong with me.   They say that you should ignore people that are mean to you. You should ignore those mean words because they should be of no importantance to you. But how can I ignore words that I constantly hear wherever I go? How can I ignore the bashful glares I'm given?   There's something wrong with me.   It's impossible to be perfect. It's impossible to be normal. Everyone is weird in their own special way.   So what makes me more special than others?   Perhaps, I just don't understand the qualities I possess that make others cringe in hate. Perhaps, my looks are below average. Perhaps, I may only be average.   But, so what? Tons of other people I know are the same as I am. I know tons of other people who aren't very appealing to the eye, who are only average in terms of grades, who are only average in terms of wealth.   So why am I the one who gets picked on? Why am I so different from others?    There's something wrong with me.   I sit by myself, my feet dangling from the edge of the school's roof, where the garden is located. You see, despite all the hate I receive, I'm considered as a 'strong person.' But if I was truly 'strong,' don't you think I would have already jumped off the roof?    People say that those who commit suicide are weak. They're stupid, weak people who couldn't handle the heat. Well you're all wrong. They are weak emotionally, but they are strong physically.   It takes a lot of courage for a coward to kill theirself.   So I am both a coward and brave. I possess cowardice because I cannot jump off the roof. But I possess braveness because I still want to live, despite all the wrong people do to me.   You would think that I would have killed myself already, because truly, I cannot handle how badly I am treated  in society. But I still live, and it is only for one reason.   That reason, happens to be love.   Although even the nicest person I go to school with doesn't want to talk to me, there still has to be someone that will love me.   Because everyone can get their happily ever after.   Mine just might come later than usual.   Mine just might come sooner than usual.   But sadly, I do not know yet. On the otherhand, seeing how many people dislike me, it will most likely come later than usual. Because, like I said,   there's something wrong with me.   By now, I had already left the rooftop and am walking to my classroom.   Sadly, I am a bit late. I heard the loud shrieking of the bell ring throughout the school, and I was forced out of my deep thought. Maybe this was the reason to my average grades.   But, who could blame me? How can I not think about the life I live?   Not that I actually have a life.   I'm so invisible, my existance is equivalent to a ghost. And when my existance is seen as a human, it's only to get bullied and tricked upon. Other than those times, I am just like the air: unseen and unheard.   But who is to blame for my terrible life? Surely, I cannot blame my parents. It's not their fault that no one likes me. It seems as if I can only blame myself for my terrible life.   But I haven't done anything.   Perhaps, maybe that was the reason to my miserable life; the fact that I had done nothing at all to help or change society in any way.   Although, it's not like the people I know have.   In fact, all they do is hurt the human reputation even more.   I thought we all had school assemblies on bullying to stop it, not to encourage it. Principals shouldn't even waste their time on talking about such a matter. No one actually listens to it, so what's the point?   Then again, my principal doesn't like me either and treats me as if I were a ghost as well, so obviously he wouldn't know that I am not happy during school hours, or any hour at all.   I tried my best to enter the classroom, but having late classmates who only know the terms 'push' and 'shove,' that was quite a difficult task for me to fuffil.