I'm going insane, and it's all because of YOU, Mrs. McGinney!
Everybody on the planet needs to die and burn. I'M SICK AND TIRED OF SHIT FROM PEOPLE. So you want me to 'write it all down', do you, Mrs. McGinney? Just 'confess my feelings' to a piece of paper? Then throw it away afterwards? Wow, smart. It must have taken years of college training to pick up that one.
HOW OLD DO YOU THINK I AM? THREE? I don't need you! I hate you and your stupid school sessions! I don't need counseling, I can take care of myself! I want people to leave me alone! Why do I have to waste even a minute of my life in that stinking hellhole you call your office? You do not understand, don't pretend that you do. You nod your head like a robot at everything I say; it's sickening.
Could someone please just shoot me?
You want to know what's the matter with me, eh? EVERYTHING. Absolutely EVERYTHING on this sorry earth PISSES ME OFF. That stupid, stupid, stupid pen pal project was a mistake. I hate whoever came up with the idea. Whoever heard of a pen pal project in a single school? What the hell?
The guy was a backstabbing liar the whole time. My pen pal, who I trusted and liked and actually talked to, TURNED ON ME. Practically EVERYTHING that's wrong with my life right now is because of HIM.
I can't believe I trusted him. How could I have thought that anyone would honestly want to be friends with me? He just LET me tell him everything that ticks me off, he LET me believe that he was on my side, he let me hit on him without me even knowing it.
So now you know, Mrs. McGinney. Oh no, wait, you don't; I'm throwing this away, remember?
I wish none of it had ever happened. Because now I don't have anyone to talk to except this crappy piece of paper.
How long are you going to do this? You know what I mean. The silence, the damn silence. You haven't spoken to me in more than a month. Not a word, not a letter. You ignore me when I try to talk to you at school.
I'm not sure you'll even read this. I can't stand this, Gerard… I want to be your friend again. I just want to see your handwriting again.
Please… everything was a mistake. I promise. I don't know what I can say to make you believe me. Please believe me.
You're making me do this again, Mrs. McGinney? What's the matter, running out of ideas? I'm still an insane, screwed-up, depressed teenager, and I personally don't think that writing letters to myself will change that. But whatever floats your boat.
I'm thinking maybe I could run away. I have relatives that live a few hours away; maybe they'd let me stay with them. Just until Frank forgets about me, and I forget about him, so that everything can go back to normal. Or maybe I'll just stay home and skip school. I don't think anyone would notice for a long while…
…except maybe my stepfather. I don't know.
IF YOU GLARE AT ME ONE MORE TIME, I'LL LOSE MY MIND. I can't stand it. I DON'T WANT THIS, GERARD. STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT.
You're making me hate you, Gerard, but I don't hate you! God! I like you, don't you understand? Stop making me feel like shit!
To myself- hahaha,
Or maybe my stepfather wouldn't notice. Maybe if I just buried myself in my room, in my closet or something…
I'm such an idiot. My life is so messed up.
Do I have to spell it out for you? Did you really not read my last letter? I like you, damn it, I mean I LIKE you. I'velikedyouforareallylongtime butyou'rekillingme and I know that sounds completely messed up, but it's the truth, so can we please talk?
You're so dense, you drive me crazy, but if you don't meet me somewhere today and TALK to me, I'll end up killing myself or worse.
Okay. I'll talk.
But this doesn't mean I forgive you.
too tired for an AN. God, the next chapter is the last I believe.
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