You sit up in bed and its 6 o clock in the morning. You’re mom is still depressed, your father is still an alcoholic, and your sister doesn’t laugh anymore. Does anybody? You fell asleep at 2:43 am but that’s early for you. Your alarm went of 5 times before you could actually fathom waking up and dragging yourself out of bed. Your eyes are blood shot from crying but your excuse will be that you smoked before class. Make up is applied like all of the other girls. You look outside and its sunny, the sun reminds you of the day your best friend took her life a year ago. You can smell her perfume so you give up on your hair and cry some more. It’s a warm out there, shorts and a cute tank top would be expected of you. But you have scars running across your thighs and when was the last time you actually felt comfortable showing any of your skin? You choose some baggy jeans and a t-shirt, you are well hidden now. You walk out of your room and your mom flashes a fake smile up at you, so you do the same. Your dad isn’t awake and that is no surprise. You head off to school. The hall ways are full of different brands of the same shoes, you notice shoes because you’re always looking down. What shoes are you wearing though? You meet up with your friends in your first class. You all chatter about the latest gossip and pointless conversation that doesn’t dare show what’s really going on in all of your lives. The teacher hands back your test and you failed. But you laugh because that was the day you were trying to study but your dad was screaming through your locked door, telling you how useless you were. Does this history test matter? F*** No. The fact you didn’t put a gun to your head does, yes that means something. You think. You continue the day as usual, teachers talking at all these empty bodies sitting next to you. You see the boy you f'ed last weekend, he doesn’t glance over. But what’s to be expected, you aren’t anything special? Must be your small breasts or your jiggly thighs. If you had enough energy you’d work out and try to fix your body but you barely have the guts to climb up the stairs to your own house. Energy doesn’t even exist anymore, its lunch now and you sit with people you done even like. But sitting with anyone is better than getting stared at because you’re sitting alone. The last class of the day, girls whisper behind you about how you are a “slut”. You don’t really understand but you don’t understand much anymore do you? You keep quiet, why start something? What’s the use anymore? Class is out. You go home and time hits repeat, but this is high school, the happiest time of your life, right?