I literally go into my bed room at 11:25-11:35, and look up at 11:55 I’ve been sitting in my room. I’ve been spending half that time sitting on my knees beside my bed, with my face laying on the side of the mattress, and my eyesight covered by the comforter. I then went to my window and stared. Just stared. Then, I layed on my ground, and stared at the ceiling, then tried to reach for the people I was imagining were in my room, just for my hand to be too tired and fall down on the ground. Then, it happened again. I talked to myself again. My mirror and body were separated AGAIN. It’s like I’m a soul, and my body is another person who’s just along for this ride and I stole her body I stole her body I swear I didn’t mean to but I stole her body. I always imagined her to have freckles, and pretty curly hair, but I stole and ruined her body I changed it. Why the hell did I do that? We are different. We are different. So ****ing different. I hate this. I hate feeling like I’m not real. i hate—

(Sorry, paragraph got cut off.) —feeling like my body and head aren’t connected. I hate being so damn apathetic. I hate this. She ruined it. She took my home, my safe area, and ruined it. Get away! Get away! I hate this! Why doesn’t she love me? I do everything I can, and I’ll never be perfect! I don’t want to be a surgeon! I don’t want to be a doctor! Or an engineer! Or a lawyer! You know? I always wanted to help the mentally ill. Maybe work at a mental ward? But mom said no! Mom said no! No! No! No! So I’m gonna be a ****ing surgeon! A surgeon! Just like him! Why did he leave? Why did everything ruin?? Why? ****ing blue hair. I can’t have blue hair. I hate his sister. No, I don’t I don’t hate anyone. This thing I’ve made doesn’t hate anyone. I can’t hate. His dad still texts me. Why? Why won’t he tell me about anything? No apology? I need to ask! How is he? How is he? Why isn’t he my family anymore? Where is he? Where is my old family? Where’s my mom? Where is she? Why di

Why did she go away? Where is my mother?? I miss her! Where’s my mom? I want to do something. Something bad. Where is it! Why aren’t I normal?? Why can’t I be the best daughter! Why can’t I be straight, with perfect hair, and perfect grades, and popular, and why can’t I have cool hobbies? Why can’t I be a sports kid? Why am I such a ****ing sneifjfnrorkrnrj Shahshshshdbnfgotjt ifjen