Young Writers Society

Please note that this was written in haste. I know the things within are poorly written but I could care less. These are things that have swollen my heart. This is what I had planned to write for my suicide of which I never completed. Please don't judge for my suicidle tendencies, thank you.

Dear Mom,

I never understood why you hated me so much. I can see the regret in your eyes when you stare at me, a fake smile plastered on your face. Was I your biggest mistake? I feel as if I was. You’ve never given me the same love as you have your boyfriends or even my older sister.

You call me names and tell me I can’t do anything right. You blame me for the way our lives are. It is my fault that we are where we are, homeless with no money, you without a job, me in trouble with truancy.

You resent me for my aggression that I never had until recently. You blame me, yet I blame you. Had we not been arguing that day, we wouldn’t be where we are. You’d called me a whore and snapped me on the inside. I used to just cry. Now I hit. I scream. I beg for an end. I hope you’re happy as you read this, that I am forever gone. I had never understood why you blamed me. I had not asked to be born, to be brought into such a cruel unjust world.

You hate me for everything I have done. You only tell people of my mistakes, not of my accomplishments. You will no longer need to worry about my failures shattering your already imperfect image. You no longer need to worry about feeding me or buying me clothes. I will be lost within history.

Please, do not mourn for me. You do not deserve to shed a tear for my loss. I was unwanted from the start, only a mistake, a punishment for your behaviors. To you, this should be a relief. You are granted freedom as I depart from the cold and harsh treatment of this place we call society.

Flying freely,

Your Daughter.

Dear Dad,

You have caused me endless pain. Maybe even more than the torture of my mother’s evil glares, filled with dismay at what her life had become. She had at least kept me, even if it were only for the money she received from you.

I was forced to move in with you after not spending the night with you for seven years. I loved you dearly but you couldn’t open your eyes and see that your girlfriend was going to shred the possibilities of a relationship between us. You were never a father to me, even when you tried. You yourself are just a child.

By the time you read this I am long gone. My mother will probably hold off on telling you, not to spare your feelings, but to show she has power over information you never had. You never called me the same names as my mother did but when you looked at me, I knew what you were thinking. I didn’t fit into your perfect family unit, a family of four. I was the fifth addition, a forced cause. I was the ruin of your perfection. I was you – a girl version, of course. The same hazel eyes, round face, short stature. You could see yourself in me, me making the same mistakes you had. It wasn’t that I was ruining myself that bothered you, it was only that I was causing your family issues.

You stopped speaking to me after I snapped and started hitting your girlfriend. I don’t remember it very much. She had mentioned my faults and I kept telling her to shut up, yet she didn’t know how to keep her mouth closed. So, I got up and started throwing fists. I don’t regret what I did. She is the reason I am fatherless.

Dad, please… Be your own person, not her slave. I had loved you until you turned your back to me, over someone who didn’t share your own blood – someone who didn’t even love you.

Not that it matters,

Your Daughter.

Dear Remie,

You were my first love. You broke me down and made sure I could never trust as easily as I had. You called me fat and told me I was a whore. Yet every time the simple words, ‘I love you’, came from your lips, I only fell for you more.

You pushed me around physically and mentally, leaving bruises on my body from your (supposed to be) playful hits and pinches. You never cared what your friends did to me, even if they touched me places that only you should’ve been near.

You wouldn’t take no as an answer and hated me when I made you. That night under the stars, walking hand in hand, was one of my worsts. I remember that I sat down and you kept trying to put your hand in my pants. I told you no, that I wasn’t ready for that yet. You didn’t stop. I held my pants shut with my hand, yet you did the childish move of biting my hand until I released and opened to your own hand. Not only did you break my pride, you bragged to your friends. Yet, I still stuck around, stricken with rosemary goggles, blocking the pain you caused my feeble soul.

I know that as you read this, you won’t really care. After all, we are young and hopeless. It was all a game to you, twisting my emotions to fit your needs. I cannot hate you, nor feel the same love as I did with the rosemary goggles. I hope to live on in your memory forever, to taunt you and remind you of the pain you caused me.

You were the reason I had begun to cut the first time. You had never called me a whore meaningfully until the day I turned away. I had started my period and wouldn’t let you touch me. You told me I was a whore and took off. I still remember the exact words you spoke to me on the stairs in front of your house, your arm holding me close to your warm body.

“What they say doesn’t matter. You’re not a whore. Only what I say matters, okay?” Words I will never forget.

Always will love you,

Your Broken Ex Girlfriend,

Dear Bobby,

I never understood why you loved me. I did in fact love you back even though I didn’t show it. You waited for me, comforted me, even when I was with Remie. You told me I’d only get hurt, that he was a bad choice. I wish that I’d listened to you before I fell for him.

My worst mistake was choosing him over you. I am an average girl, I suppose. I chose the asshole over the sweet and sensitive guy. I know that tonight you told me you wouldn’t know what to do without me but I want you to know that you’ll be okay. You’ll make it, unlike me.

Keep me in your memory, don’t let my words and soul die, I beg of you.

Watching over you,

Your Love.

To all of those who pushed me,

I know that you never meant for things to go this far. I know that you had problems of your own, pain of your own. I am the third Fort student to go in the past year and a half. First two were Scotty and Hunter. Now, I am gone as well. I know that I will be forgotten within time, as Scotty and Hunter were. I am okay with that, none of you deserve to carry on my memory. None of you deserve to mourn for someone you only hurt.

Though I shouldn’t single you out, Destiny and Anna, I will. Anna, you made my life a living hell. You constantly reminded me of my major mistake that caused this all, with your ex boyfriend. I had tried to make amends with you, to apologize and admit I was wrong, but you denied me. You told the school what I had done, laughing as they called me a whore. My first day you called me an ‘IT’. You always were calling me things like that and even a slut, whore, or bitch. Destiny, you mocked me and made fun of me as often as possible. You told people I smelt like cat piss and that I never brushed my hair. I shower and I brush my hair, yet you still make rumors. When we fought you bloodied my nose because I’d just gotten it pierced and assumed you’d won. You bragged and thought that it gave you the right to push me around even more, to call me names, yet to hate me when I called you named back. My blood is on both of your hands.

Lost,

The Forgotten One.