I keep on having the worst dreams about my parents and about the whole school explosion thing, i feel like it's all piling on top of me and if it weren't my idea to get the principal to enter our school in that scholarship contest then this wouldn't have happened at all!
MY FAULT.
I can't seem to get over it, i keep on looking over my shoulder and thinking that maybe the students are happier, i mean i may as well face it, not a single clique at that school could get along, its obvious to me that the only place they'll ever truly get along is in heaven. The high school is hell. HELL.
Maybe they're all better off dead, maybe their was some kinda illness that would have killed them all and they would have died painfully instead of quickly.
i have got to stop thinking this!! i don't sleep anymore, i hardly blink, no speaking and barely eat, i can't even fake a smile.
my aunt wants to take me to a therapist, could help i guess, it can't hurt me anymore than i already am. but i feel realer more aware about what can happen, Lucas understands better than anyone else about it, Mike is shaken up, Annette's worried about us both (she's walking better now, but limping a bit).
i'm not singing anymore, in fact i don't walk around anymore, what's the point? i'll just make another dumb decision that'll cost people their lives.
"How do you feel about the recent occurrences in you life Jane?" asked my therapist, her expression said nothing, so i read her mind 'this poor kid, i can't even imagine what she went through'
i felt this helplessness rise in me, and anger, hatred everything under the sun, except forgiveness.
"i don't need your freakin' pity!!" i screamed, i swung the door open and it just about broke off its hinges. my therapist looked in utter shock.
i walked around for ages, i'm sure that i punched a few walls, i'm not sure. i felt so responsible, i was crying when i got home, i walked up to my room ignoring everything my aunt and Lucas said. i sat down and looked at every poster on my walls, Wicked, Grease, Chicago, Moulin Rouge, Short Stack, Linkin Park and so many others. fakes, fake lives fake stories, happy endings, sad endings but always so contrived. I grabbed the scissors off my desk and sliced and cut every poster into confetti, cutting my hands a lot in the process, i didn't mind, it's a small price to pay.
i knew that somewhere inside of me there was still the Jane who loved musicals and dancing and singing, it made me sick. So sick i through up for most of the night until dinner, i didn't eat.
i couldn't be in this town, people looking at me in pity, i hated it.
i dress in black now, it goes with everything and nothing. like me. I'm a human, completely normal in every way, but i don't fit anywhere in this picture that is the world.
it was midnight, i packed my things and through up because i had let myself fall asleep, and i had one of THOSE dreams, they still made be sick. i climbed out the window, only to be met by Lucas.
"Jane, don't leave, you can get some help, we're here for you" he said soothingly, 'go bcak to bed' i yelled at him telepathically, he turned, then it was like he fought it, he turned back around.
"if you don't want to stay then i don't, i'm coming" he said. i shrugged in a whatever gesture.
We walked to the airport, it was morning when we had finally got there but luckily we had bought the tickets. our airport was small and cheap, i guess thats a plus. it would take us to North Carolina, where we planned to hitch hike to New York.
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