bored of sc
Active Member
- Joined
- Nov 10, 2007
- Messages
- 2,314
- Gender
- Male
- HSC
- 2009
Yeah. I’ve got it worked out. This is who I really am. No strings attached.
Welcome to my life. My name is Gemma. I am a 14 year old girl. I live in Australia. My mother died when I was 8. I live with my father and sister. Things have never been normal. My life is intense, to say the least. I've had 6 close relatives and family members die in as many years. I am suffering with a disease of the lungs, although dad won’t tell me what it is. My sister is taking drugs every weekend now and I have to help her hide them in the house. She swore she’d kill me if I said a thing to dad. But dad is barely there anyway. He’ll never notice. Tucked away in his room a level beneath us, he reminds of a hermit crab.
It all scares me, I won’t lie. When I’m just laying there at night staring aimlessly at the ceiling, the thought of it all physically weakens me. I feel as if my body is going to turn to jelly. As if all the strength is being sucked away. I try my hardest to accept it and move on. Things are as they are. You don’t have any control over them. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and move on. Self-pity is self-centeredness.
So here I am. Sitting in my room. Thinking of what to write. Actually caring about little things like grammar, expression and spelling in the hope that someone will read this and feel some form of empathy.
What'd you guys think so far? Boring? Decent? Needs work?
Welcome to my life. My name is Gemma. I am a 14 year old girl. I live in Australia. My mother died when I was 8. I live with my father and sister. Things have never been normal. My life is intense, to say the least. I've had 6 close relatives and family members die in as many years. I am suffering with a disease of the lungs, although dad won’t tell me what it is. My sister is taking drugs every weekend now and I have to help her hide them in the house. She swore she’d kill me if I said a thing to dad. But dad is barely there anyway. He’ll never notice. Tucked away in his room a level beneath us, he reminds of a hermit crab.
It all scares me, I won’t lie. When I’m just laying there at night staring aimlessly at the ceiling, the thought of it all physically weakens me. I feel as if my body is going to turn to jelly. As if all the strength is being sucked away. I try my hardest to accept it and move on. Things are as they are. You don’t have any control over them. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and move on. Self-pity is self-centeredness.
So here I am. Sitting in my room. Thinking of what to write. Actually caring about little things like grammar, expression and spelling in the hope that someone will read this and feel some form of empathy.
What'd you guys think so far? Boring? Decent? Needs work?