As a small child, I have always understood that some people were less fortunate than others, and knew that some people don't have the things I do. I was a spoiled child, and my parents loved me to the ends of the earth. Despite being married a year before I existed, as soon as I turned at least five, they started fighting. Later on, a few fistfights broke out between them, leading to me usually hiding under a box of tv parts. These fights just kept on happening until one day, I was found and taken away from them.

After a while, I was taken in by Mr. and Mrs. Brown, who had a little boy about my age. I later knew him as Michael, a friend of mine I've had for over five years. Why I chose to be his friend I do not know, but I suppose it's because I knew him as my family.

I went to school day after day, learning new things, yet I was somewhat behind in my writing. Because of this, I have judged myself again and again until I was absolutely terrified of criticism of any kind. My classmates pushed me around, called me names, judged every single one of my movements for a long while, until Michael realized what was going on. He was suddenly more protective and supporting, which was strange since I was not- and still am not- used to that kind of treatment. Despite his efforts, the teasing continued.

Long after I had gotten used to all the name-calling, I started to feel worthless. I began to think nothing would ever get better for me, and nothing could make a turn for the worse. I had hit rock bottom. I began to lose sleep until I reached the point where I did not care about much of anything. Michael began to worry about me constantly, and eventually told his mother. I figured this out when, at dinner, the conversation was nothing but silence until Mrs. Brown spoke.

"Wyatt, do you really feel like things are hopeless?" I did not answer, and avoided them every time they tried to talk to me about that. That decision was not for the best, as things got darker and darker. As of now, I cannot stand these feelings of a lack of hope, and a mind filled with shattered dreams. Which is why I am leaving this note to you, reader, as I am now helpless. I am forever stuck in a state of dreams, where I can finally be free of life's worries. Please do me one last favor- tell the Browns I am grateful to be with them for so long, and that I hope I did not cause too much pain. And please, tell Michael Brown that I will miss him, because his love was one of the very few things I lived for.