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Monday, October 4, 2004


   Suicide?? Why???
Heidly hooo...

Argh I was all in a goot mood but then my friend had to tell me about this girl who killed herself because she was over weight and being bullied and then showed me her death letter....It made me cry!

Why are people so fucking horrible? There is nothing wrong with being overweight and it's no reason to get bullied! Bullying is mornonic anyway, especially over something so stoopid as the way you dress and waht you look like and shit like that. It just makes me so angrry!

Here's the letter:

It was 8 o'clock, my alarm went over half an hour ago. I was waiting for mum to walk up the stairs and walk in. I turned over and hoped I would never wake again.

I used to give a girl a lift to school each day, even though she used to hit me, it didn't matter, she was still someone to follow to escape lonely ness.

I waited for my mother to walk in 'Laura im sick off running up and down these stairs now get up!'

I would look at her 'mum, I don't feel well'. 'Whats wrong now?!' 'My tummy hurts and I feel sick'. 'It's a girl thing now get up!'

I did, I got up, walked over to my door, took of the school clothes, I was a shocking size 24, I just ate and ate, I didn't care anymore, I shoved myself into it and went down stairs. I put in my lunch box and I felt my heart start to beat faster, and gripping pain inside myself, but no, this wasn't a special day, this was everyday.

This had gone on for a few weeks now, I was fat, ugly and worthless. Monday aah Monday.

There we were outside the school, people looking at this fat lump which is myself but oh well. I didn't want to leave the car, I wanted to die. I walked down the corridor, Here, Boys standing just before the stairs, legs out, waiting to trip me up, how wonderful. I managed to get through without making a compleat prat of myself, I felt my fat wooble as I walked into the hall. I hated it so much, I used to talk to myself in my head, only thing that kept me ok to live. Ahhh here it was Leah. 'Oh my god, is it true, your a dyke?'

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything and walked off. Why were they doing this? Why me? I was fat. Still a person. It had gone for six months. Same thing every day.

I saw some boys laughing at the fact I was fat, and possibly a 'dyke' I wannted to cry so much. But I couldn't. I had on friday, I can't again.

At last! Here Mrs stephens comes 'morning 7c, Nice weekend?' I felt like saying 'Ohh yes, It was wonderful, I cried all the time, how was yours?' But no-one cared anyway so what was the point?

Yes, I had told my parents, they thought I just didn't like going to school. I just hoped like they said 'they will get bored'. While I got fatter and fatter and sadder and sadder. Everyone got meaner and meaner.

I sat at my desk and got my books out, Everyone looking at me, I felt worthless. I didn't care about numbers, spelling, or how many drops of acid you had inside you, all I cared about was this gripping pain everyday.

Some of my mind on my work, some on my aunty, Lovely lady, Rosemary. She had just been told she had Lung Canser, Made my bit of builling seem like nothing, but it was , oh but it was.

The seconds seemed to take ages to tick by, most pupils waiting for break, I hated it, a chance to be with the whole school, and have the piss taken more.

Yesss! English right at the end of the school. I raced down the stairs trying not to fall, ingoring everything that was said. Here we are English. I sat down and started drawing flowers, not pretty ones, dead ones, hanging, lifeless, worthless, a piece of shit you throw out in the rubbish, thats how I felt. Just like that.

Break, People flooding into the halls. Running, Pushing people over, how much better could you get? 'Oi!! Outa the way fatty!' I just moved, I wanted to close my eyes and it all to disappear.

Only ten minutes left thank god, I don't think I could take much more, I wannted to throw a sicky, but I needed a new illness, It was tummy ach last week, I needed something new, I didn't even need to make myself feel sick, they did it for me.

They never really believed me anyway. They didn't believe I was being bullied, or I was Ill. I was standing clutching my bag. Holding myself together as if to let go of this bag, would to let go of any pride, or anything I had left, I wasn't too stubborn to ask for help, I did ask, but they didn't pay any atten. Lesson three, Tecnology, cooking Fruit salad, I ran up the stairs, got called 'fat fuck' this time, wasn't too bad.

AT LAST the final run Home, I rushed down the road, holding the tears back. 'Hiya how was school?' 'Fine' I replyed, didn't seem any point saying anything else did there? They didn't listen.'I'm going to the loo', I didn't even enter the bathroom, I went into the box room. I took out a scissors, I knew what I was doing, maybe this would show them what they were doing. I draged it over my wrists a few times, the next few times pressing harder, It felt really good. I hurt, but I pressed harder, shit. There was a mark, a deep red one, what can I do?"

There yeah... I'm going to go before I start ranting about the cum of the earth again..

Toddles!

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