Averyhiddensoul's Journals

Whatever I Feel Like

So since no one ever reads my shit anymore I have decided that I shall write whatever I feel like. So my senior year sucked. And it was awesome. My closest friend went completely insane and left me. We had been best friends since the 2nd grade and then she just shut off from me. I didn't know what was going on. I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong. I went to a very dark place. I didn't get on here every and I partially blame that on why people don't talk to me on here anymore. I hated everything. I just wanted to die. Everything was going crazy. I was worried with ACTs and stuff. I had never taken the damn test and it was the middle of my senior year. I flipped out. I took a VERY easy two years of science my freshman and sophomore year and so I guessed on that whole part. I couldn't even read the questions. I'm really bad at math too so I guessed again. Then on the reading and English portion where I actually knew what I was doing I only got half done. I can't work that fast I mean come on you get like .3 seconds a question. I can't even read the question in that time. It sucked and I got a 21 which equal major suckage and a bad college. I was freaking out. There was no way Truman was gonna take me with that kind of score not only did they require 3 years of science but they also required at least a 25 on the ACT. I filled out the 4 page plus essay question application and thankfully got in. No idea how that happened but it did and now I go there although a lot of the time I wish I didn't. There was a month waiting period between taking the ACT and getting into Truman so that took my dark period to the abyss. And then there's the FAFSA. OMG I hate that thing. Anybody but me think I'm starting to sound like a character in a bad teen drama? Of course not cause no one's reading this. Awkward. Anyway. I was going completely insane and had no idea what to do. I had 2 close friends that were still talking to me and one of them was in college so I pretty much had one friend. Let me tell ya one really is the loneliest number. I mean bless her heart she tried but I felt like she was giving up so much time to be with me and I had spent so much time with the others in the past I felt like I was using her so I felt bad being moody which made me more moody. I'm complicated. I'm still deeply affected by what happened. When I got to college my walls that I had built so very high in the past had been reinforced and doubled in size. I can't make friends as easily as I used to. That's really had for me. I'm a people pleaser I need them to like me even if they don't like me. People have always and will always think I'm weird but they've always thought it was cute and liked my more for it. Now I'm just weird. I can't do that. I need people to like me. I need to be talked to not about. The last half of my senior year was hell and heaven. I had so much fun with Cassandra but when she was gone all I could do was think about what else had happened. I'll post another journal later about the details of what happened but right now I just wanna get out how I felt about it. No one cares how it made me feel they just want me to be sorry for what I did. How can I be sorry if I still don't understand what I did? She's the one that ignored me. I really don't get it. We're texteing now and pretending nothing happened but I can't go one day without thinking about what happened how it could be my fault cause it had to be. I mean if my closest friends say I ruined our relationship than I had to, right? I'm still pissed as hell but I'll just keep that to myself cause last time I told anyone how I felt my life was ruined. How could I be so stupid?

?

1: Who are you?

2: Why do you care?

1: Why are you here?

2: Why are you?

1: Where are you going?

2: Why does it matter?

1: Where have you been?

2: Where could I go?

1: What are you looking at?

2: What is there to see?

1: Why won't you answer me?

2: Why do you ask?

1: Why are you sad?

2: Why are you not?

1: Why not be happy?

2: Why are you not?

1: What do you want from me?

2: Am I not allowed to want?

1: Is this a game to you?

2: Isn't it all a game?

1: What more can I do?

2: What have you done?

1: Have I not done enough?

2: Can anyone?

1: Why are you here?

2: Why do you need me?

1: Why don't you leave?

2: Why can't I stay?

1: Why won't you?

2: Why would I?

1: Why do you always go?

2: Why would I stay?

1: Don't you wish to?

2: How could I?

1: Why must I be alone?

2: Why must I?

1: Can't you stay?

2: Can't you go?

1: How would I?

2: Don't you know?

1: What if I can't?

2: What if you must?

1: Can't we stay?

2: Why would I stay?

1: When will you leave?

2: When will you?

1: Why can't you stay?

2: Why does the moon rise?

1: Why won't you stay?

2: Why does it fall?

1: Why must you go?

2: Why does the sun rise?

1: Why would you leave?

2: Why does it fall?

1: Why not stay?

2: Why must anything happen?

1: How far will you go?

2: How far is there?

1: How far are you now?

2: How much can you see?

1: Why won't you stay?

2: Why do dogs run?

1: Why must you leave?

2: Why is the grass green?

1: Why won't you answer me?

2: Why won't you let me go?

1: What if I can't?

2: How can you not?

1: Why do always leave?

2: Why do they make me?

1: Why are we so young?

2: Why can't you act older?

1: Why must we?

2: Is there a choice?

1: Why must we always lose?

2: Why would we ever win?

1: Mustn't we?

2: How could we?

1: Why did they do it?

2: Why wouldn't they?

1: Why wouldn't they leave us alone?

2: How could they?

1: Why can't we have peace?

2: How can we have peace in war?

1: What did we do?

2: What didn't we do?

1: Why does it matter?

2: Why wouldn't it?

1: Why will you leave?

2: How could I stay?

1: Why are you gone?

2: Why are you not?

1: Why must we fight?

2: Why wouldn't we?

1: Why must we have war?

2: How could we be free?

1: Why can't you stay?

2: How can you?

1: Can I leave?

2: Can't you?

1: Why won't you stay?

2: Why won't you let me go?

1: When will you come back?

2: Why won't you stop?

1: When will I see you again?

2: When will you leave?

1: Why do I miss you?

2: Why can't I you?

1: Why can't I see you?

2: Why would you?

1: Why can't I feel you?

2: How could you?

1: Why did they kill you?

2: Why do I miss you?

1: Why couldn't you have been younger?

2: Why are you?

1: Why do I forget you?

2: Good night.

1: Who are you?

2: Sleep and you will remember.

1: Why are you here?

2: When you wake you will know.

1: Why did they kill me?

Back with a Vengeance

If you've ever read my stuff you know I kinda like to rant and I've been gone for a very long time dealing with problems and no one's let me rant in a while so I'm back and I'm gonna say whatever the hell I want to even though it seems like no one's talking to me lately and this probably won't be read I don't care. I'm back with a vengeance.

heart,

Averyhiddensoul

Silent Owl

_{Do not cross a quiet person. By nature they keep to themselves, but if provoked they can unleash a fury unlike anything you have ever witnessed. Quiet means silence and in silence we are alone with our thought where our most malicious thoughts come out to play. Knowledge is power and much power can be gained by just sitting awhile with yourself and listening to the world around you. The quiet one in the corner with eyes open to the world sees all you do, hears all you say. Knowledge is power. I possess great power in my silence. It takes great strength to bite one's tongue. Do not cross the silent for they are powerful beyond all words expressed. Silence is not golden, it's red. Red with power, anger, revenge. It is the loudest thing in all the world. Silence is the loudest anything could ever be. Be silent. Be loud. Be powerful. Be knowledgeable. Be red. But do not underestimate those who surround you but do not partake. The shy are not timid, meek, and mild they are patient, watchful, and wise. You are warned. Be with caution when the owl is watching. No one is safe, nothing unseen, when the owl's tree is occupied. The sheep will shed its wool, the snake its skin, the liar its lies. All will be revealed in due time. None go unpunished of their evildoing. Whooo.}

Tell Me!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm not intending that I myself believe that there are people out there that deserve the pain they have I'm just asking are some people just born to be hurt by others and even themselves? Take myself for example I have alot of friends, I'm busy with golf, band, choir, dance, a play, drama club, Spanish club, and key club but yet I'm always angry and always sad and I find that my friends are the same way. (Just read my journals) Now no one will probably read this but I just thought is was worth a try. I have these fantastic friends I'd literally die for and yet when they have problems there's nothing any of us can do to make them happy and I'm the same way. I throw things and write rants which I post as journals and then no one reads. I was just curious if anyone else felt this way and by the way I've posted this in another group as well. Thanks for your time.

Why My Life Sucks

Why does my life suck? Well if you havenâ�™t caught on yet then youâ�™ve answered your own question. Iâ�™m not notices, how many fucking times do I have to say it to get someone to listen to me? I could scream â�˜Iâ�™m not noticedâ�™ and someone would say â�˜huh?â�™. Why thank you idiot for proving my point. Even if I were to â�˜spillâ�™ to my friends as they say theyâ�™d like me to I donâ�™t think it would matter. Theyâ�™d either make it about them or not pay attention. Itâ�™s not their fault, Iâ�™m just not that interesting. I totally get that & thatâ�™s why I keep my petty problems to myself. Iâ�™ve always known that there was nothing special about me ant itâ�™s just be enforced by parents, teacher, friends, and classmates. I suck at life. I have no special gift. Iâ�™m not pretty, or smart, or talented or something like that. Iâ�™m just one of those people who are just there. Space fillers: something of no importance beside taking up room; expendable. Iâ�™ve already expressed my feelings for my role as the â�˜dogâ�™, but the thing about being the hated dog that people kick, maybe one day someone will kick to hard and then I wonâ�™t have to worry about it anymore. Through out my life Iâ�™ve had friends replace me, trade me in for a less satirical model, or just â�˜dumpâ�™ me. I try so hard to be the good friend everyone wants but all I do still isnâ�™t enough. Everyone I love will abandon me and then Iâ�™m going to die sad and alone. Iâ�™ve never had one suicidal thought that wasnâ�™t brought on by a friend or parent. I hate everything and itâ�™s all their fault. They broke me. They made me this way. My mom thought she was being a good mom but she hurt me really bad. Her â�˜truthâ�™ was a little too much for a ten year old to handle. I have no one. I am no one. I have nothing. I am nothing. I wish Iâ�™d just die and itâ�™d be over. Iâ�™m tired of being so cold. My heart is ice. I have no purpose. Iâ�™m a shoulder to cry on, something to vent to, someone to yell at, something to hurt, thatâ�™s it. Iâ�™m sorry but I donâ�™t know what I did. Why doesnâ�™t anyone see me? Why donâ�™t they hear me screaming? Why donâ�™t the see that Iâ�™m dying? What did I do? Why so I deserve this? What about me? Why do they always forget me? Why do they leave me out? Why am I always second? Iâ�™m tired. I wish I could die, but how can I, I donâ�™t exist. My life sucks because itâ�™s not a life at all. My life can be summed up by the song â�œPitifulâ� by Sick Puppies and that is so pathetic.

The Mirror

I stand. Alone. Heartbroken, forgotten, & on my own, where I belong. No one here by my side, who knows whatâ�™s right. Cold and lost, here I am nothing but a ghost. Nothingâ�™s left but an empty shell of what I used to be. Been stripped down so everything I used to be is a forgotten memory. They toke it all away from me, my dignity, my sanity. My life. My soul. Now I canâ�™t control what Iâ�™ve become cause I donâ�™t even know the person in the mirror staring back at me. A stranger Iâ�™ve never met who I hate more than any of the rest. Thatâ�™s why Iâ�™ll always be standing here. Alone.

Bullets for Breakfast: If You Don't Leave i Will

To: a friend, lover, more or less

From: anyone whoâ�™s ever been hurt by someone they love

If You Donâ�™t Leave I Will

i Cut Myself just to see if iâ�™m still Bleeding & i Drown Myself just to see if iâ�™m still Breathing. Cause Every time ~~you~~ say ~~you~~â�™re Leaving i think iâ�™ll Die. iâ�™m just hoping when ~~you~~ Leave that ~~you~~â�™ll Stay Gone. Without ~~you~~ here i can see the Open door & withOut ~~you~~ here iâ�™m not scared to go Outside. Cause if ~~you~~â�™re Not here ~~you~~ canâ�™t Hurt me like ~~you~~ always do. If ~~you~~ donâ�™t leave soon iâ�™ll be eating Bullets for Breakfast. iâ�™m not sure if iâ�™m still livin or if iâ�™m just a Ghost, but i know that iâ�™m eating Bullets for Breakfast if ~~you~~ donâ�™t leave soon.

Cancer

The Hardest Part Is Leaving You

The first thing you noticed was the smell. That horrid odor of disinfectant and death that was so strong it hung to your mouth after you left. The second thing was the brightness. Those blindingly-white walls illuminated by bad florescent lighting. The irony of a bright and shiny building that held so much devastation and gloom was almost comical. Then there were the sounds. Beeping around every corner followed by coughing, talking, and other miscellaneous sounds that are found when many humans are in one building. The Anthony family had experienced these sights, smells, and sounds for six months already, but it had never gotten any easier to walk down those haunted hallways.

Their eldest son was a prison in that place, and there was nothing they could do to free him. It had become to difficult for them to go there everyday, so Michael went on his own. They wanted to be there they just couldnâ�™t bare seeing their child like that again.

Michael walked into Saint James like heâ�™d done so many times before. He went to his brotherâ�™s room, opened the door, and walked to the lonely chair by the window. It was so routine now he didnâ�™t know what heâ�™d do when it ended. He sat down and waited for Arthur to wake up. He sat there for twenty minutes not uttering one word as he watched his brotherâ�™s chest gently rise and fall like he was keeping time to a secret song only he heard. Then Michael saw Arthurâ�™s eyes flutter and finally open.

â�œHey, Michael,â� Arthur whispered.

â�œHey. How are you feeling today?â� Michael worriedly responded.

â�œIâ�™m fine. I just really want to get out of here, you know? I want to know what unsanitized air smells like; I canâ�™t even remember now,â� Laughed Arthur.

â�œI know, and one of these days youâ�™ll get out of this place.â� .

â�œYeah on my way to the mausoleum,â� Arthur remarked.

In another end of the hospital a doctor is giving the news no parent ever wants to hear. â�œYes Mrs. Anthony Iâ�™m sure thereâ�™s nothing more we can do for him. Weâ�™ll try chemo again but I canâ�™t make any promises,â� was a weary Dr. Brytoroâ�™s response.

â�œBut there has to be something you can do. You canâ�™t just let Arthur die I wonâ�™t let you. I will not out live my son Dr. Brytoro, and neither will you,â� Retorted Mrs. Anthony. â�œGood-bye Dr. Brytoro.â�

â�œGood-bye Mrs. Anthony,â� was all Dr. Brytoro could say, but she had already hung up on him.

The next day Mr. and Mrs. Anthony decided to go visit their son and try to convince him to start treatment again. They knew it would be hard but they had to try. Arthur hated chemo more than anything in this world.

After he was diagnosed with cancer the doctors started him on chemo immediately. Arthur hated how weak it made it him feel and how his hair fell out. He was sore all the time and very moody. Arthur was already a slightly depressed person but after treatment he became irrational, angry, and even mean. His parents knew he wouldnâ�™t want to go through that again but they had to try.

They walked down the hall to that old, white door and pushed it open. They saw their son surrounded by faded blue walls and a blue blanket, lying on his side, staring at the window like he slept every night. He loved to watch the doctors and nurses walk to their cars on their way home and pretend he was going with them. His parents stood at the end of his bed waiting, and dreading, for him to wake up.

â�œWow guys, your perkiness is going to give me a headache,â� Joked Arthur.

â�œSorry honey. We have some news for you, and before you get upset you need to hear us out. Dr. Brytoro says you can start chemo again.â�

â�œNo mom. No way will I ever do that again. Iâ�™d rather die, and yes I do mean that literally.â� Arthurâ�™s anger shook his mother to the core.

â�œBut honey itâ�™s our last chance. Thereâ�™s nothing else they can do,â� Pleaded Mrs. Anthony.

â�œSon your motherâ�™s right you have no other choice.â�

â�œYes I do. I can die.â� With that Arthur turned his head back to the window and watched life pass him by.

Mr. Anthony lead his shaky wife out to the hall where she broke down in tears. On the way home Mr. Anthony was silent and Mrs. Anthony cried, which had become their routine.

The next day they went back to the hospital hoping Arthur had calmed down a little. When they got there they were shocked by what they saw. Michael was sitting on the neatly-made bed where their eldest son should have been sleeping.

â�œMichael whereâ�™s your brother?â� Asked Mrs. Anthony.

â�œHeâ�™s gone,â� Replied Michael. â�œWhen I got here the bed was made and everything was empty. The only thing left was this note on his pillow.â�

â�œWhat does it say?â� Inquired Mr. Anthony.

â�œWell it says, â�˜My lovelies, know that I love you, and I will always watch over you. You gave me the best life I could have had. In my darkest times you were my light. Iâ�™m at peace with dying and I ask that you donâ�™t mourn me, but remember the good times. The hardest part is leaving you, but if I knew youâ�™d carry on without me it wouldnâ�™t be so hard. Iâ�™m unafraid and I wish youâ�™d be too. With all the love in my heart, Arthur. P.S. Now Iâ�™m off to smell fresh air cause I donâ�™t want to die not remembering what it smells like.â�™â�

As Michael read Arthurâ�™s note the family finally realized why it had been so hard visiting him, they knew it hurt him to see them upset, which hurt them. They spent six days not knowing where Arthur was, but they didnâ�™t care because they knew heâ�™d be happy just being anywhere but in that hospital.

Seven days from Arthurâ�™s disappearance Mrs. Anthony woke-up to banging at her front door. As she ran downstairs she could smell the coffee her husband had made that morning. She could also hear her husband open the door and say something, but she couldnâ�™t understand what it was. When she got to the living room she saw him with Michael standing by the couch, but she couldnâ�™t see what they were staring at.

Arthur was lying on the sofa wheezing. As she ran to him she nearly collapsed. He looked up at her and mouthed I love you. Through tears she told him sheâ�™d always love him and then she leaned down and gently kissed his nearly transparent forehead. Arthur looked up at her, smiled, and said, â�œHow could I forget fresh air smells like freedom, just like you.â�

Now every year on the 24^th of October the Anthony family releases 30 butterflies over Arthurâ�™s grave. 11 for the amount of days he lived past the doctorsâ�™ predictions and 19 for the amount of years he blessed their lives. The note Arthur wrote to them hangs over their front door, and now they always remember that they are each othersâ�™ light and they never forget to smell the fresh air.

Ok so in English class we had to write a short story so I used the the song Cancer by My Chemical Romance and wrote it like the song was about something that had really happended and since it was for school I used the middle names of the band members and I used some names and put together to make weird names.

If I Died Tomorrow

Would there be tears of life lost or of guilt? Would anyone remember my name? Would anyone care that I was no longer here? Would my teachers fill my seat & erase me from their rooms? Would my seat next to you be filled by someone new? Would you be glad? Would you realize how much you needed me? Would you realize you how much you ignored me? Would you feel bad? Would you feel anything? Would I be free? Would I be happy? Would I still be your friend? Would you still talk to me? Would you forget me? Would my voice ring in your ears. Would I haunt your dreams? Would you think of me? Would you see all the signs you missed? What would happen if I died tomorrow by my own hand?