I wasn’t particularly handsome, nor was I particularly kind. Most of the people I know would describe me as just, well, unpleasant. On the other hand I didn’t really care, at least that’s what I told people. Truth is I hated the way I was, I’d gotten so used to the way I acted that I’d grown accustomed to it. I tried being nice and kind, but most people thought it strange my sudden personality change I guess they’d grown accustomed too.

Growing up is a confusing process, you have no idea it’s happening until it’s almost over. For me it was like the dark ages, everything sucked. Middle school was one of the worst and best times of my life. While I had some of the closest friends that I’d ever had, I also had a scourge of depression that always seemed to find a way to swallow me whole. My past wasn’t the greatest, that coupled with teenage hormones made that depression seep deep into my psyche. I won’t lie I often thought of suicide, at home I became more and more introverted, yet nobody noticed and that didn’t help the situation. Everyday was worse than the last, for five years, there was contemplation and attempts of suicide. It wasn’t that I hated anything in particular, I hated everything; my parents lack of caring ,loneliness that dogged me, the emptiness that was me, and myself. Events from my past terrorized my mind every time I closed my eyes, often times, quietly, I cried until my eyes closed completely and nightmares took.