They didn't understand me.

Why did I think they ever understood me?

It was freshman year of high school. I started feeling better. I started being a better person.

Or so I thought.

I met new people, made new friends. There were three people I though I could count on. Three people who I thought were there for me.

Then it became two people.

Then it felt like none.

They used to understand me...what happened? One of them just started to hate me one day. She started to hate me like everyone else. Most people still hated me, but I had a few friends. I thought that friendship meant that you were there for each other, that you cared about each other. I guess I was wrong.

None of them really cared about me.

If you care about someone then you don't just randomly start to hate them. What did I ever do to her? I asked myself this more times than I can count.

I cared about them so much. I really thought they cared about me. I guess that's just another one of life's cruel deceptions.

To share my story, I should probably start from the beginning. But where is the beginning exactly? I'm not entirely sure.

"So here's one from the heart, my life right from the start"

Before the eighth grade, I was shy. Not regular shyness, it was extreme. In kindergarten I remember always sitting in the back of the classroom, always being alone. It was better than before though, in preschool I was bullied. The girl that sat next to me but me and scratched me. The teacher knew but didn't do anything. My parents took me out eventually. I remember one day in kindergarten when I sat in my chair crying all day. I don't even know why I was crying. The nurse came to the class because I wouldn't leave my seat. I cried, and cried, and cried.

First grade was a little better. My first grade teacher was my favorite teacher throughout elementary school. I had two good friends. Raven Keller and Drew Parker. They were both my friends, but they hated each other. I was closer to Raven than I was to Drew. We were great friends. Then suddenly we weren't friends anymore. No one ever told me what happened. After that, I grew closer to Drew. We had the same class in second grade. The teacher always confused me, her, and another girl in our class, Becky Smith.

All the years from elementary and middle school are blurred together now. I don't know what happened when. I remember the day my parents told me and my sister that they were getting divorced. I remember my dad sleeping on the couch until he moved out. I remember his new house, his new girlfriend. I remember going to his house every Thursday, on every other weekend, and during the summer.

I remember the day when all of that ended. When everything changed. I walked home from school, mad at my mother for not letting Drew come over that day. There were strange cars parked in the driveway. I walked into the house and my aunt and uncle were there. My sister was crying. I was crying, and I didn't even know what was happening yet.

Then everything was different. There was only one house. Only one parent.

Soon after that, I grew apart from Drew.

When that when it all started? Or have I really been this way my whole life.

Everything feels so much more real when I label it. I've always had these feelings. But when everyone started labeling it, everything felt worse. All of those bad feelings were magnified, because I knew they were there, and I couldn't help but focus on them.

That's when it started. When I was told what these feelings meant. I could've kept trying to make myself think I was happy, but suddenly I didn't want to anymore. I didn't want to try to be happy. I just wanted to feel something real. Pain was the only real thing there was for me to feel. Pain, sadness, anger, and anxiety.

Pain, sadness, anger, anxiety.
Pain, sadness, anger, anxiety.

That's when I became so unattached, so uncaring. The first semester of eighth grade was one of the worst times. Freshman year or high school was another.

At the end of eighth grade, I got a little better. Started talking to more people, made a few friends, had a crush. I kept some of those friends through high school. And my crush was the second one I ever had. His name was Conner Slugg. We went to the end of the year dance together. We were 'together' the last few weeks of school. I realized I liked him more as a friend, and that he was annoying as a boyfriend. I didn't know how to tell him that, so I told him that we should stop being together because we were going to different high schools and would never see each other.

That was definitely a mistake.

Please let me know what you think about the story!! Comments please!! The video for this chapter is a cover of Someone, Somewhere by Asking Alexandrea . I put it because the quote I used is from this song.