Ficlets

Confessions of a Teenage Victim

Why?
It seems as though this small, seemingly insignificant word starts all problems, yet nothing can end them.

Why can’t I live in one place and not move?

Why can’t I have loyal friends?

Why can’t I get good grades?

Why didn’t I make the team?

Why can’t I be a singer or an actress?

Why am I not good enough?

Why must I keep living everyday?

Why am I here?

All these questions, swirling around, it’s enough to make me sick with depression. They won’t let me sleep at night.

Sometimes I wish God would swoop down and tell me, “It is okay. You are good enough for me.”

why. Why. WHY ?

I’ve found some answers.

I’m always depressed because a “friend” let me down. It’s quite simple really. Don’t make any friends.

I’m trying this, and high school is much easier. It’s difficult saying no to invitations, but it’s even more difficult saying yes to friends.

As for saying no to moving and life, well, I’m still working on that. But, hey, one of three ain’t so bad.

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