My mom died in 6th grade. I thought that if my mom passed, my whole world would fall apart. That wasn’t the problem though. I had some good friends that year until they all moved in the same month. But I held myself together. I don’t know how I did this,  but I was the kid that NO ONE messed with that year. I wish I could still be that kid. People only talked crap about me once. But I guess I was so shut out on the outside that nobody could see how bad it hurt me. If I looked like that now, I would have at least 30 concerns a day.

7th grade was fine. In 8th grade, I made a friend who (little did I know) was suicidal. She tried ending herself one night. I asked her what happened when I saw her the next day. All she said was “not enough pills”. I didn’t say anything. I had nothing to say.

There was another girl I hung out with. I was her only friend, since she was left by my cousin. I ended up sitting with my cousin, even though she told me that she didn’t want to sit next to my cousin. She ended up moving about a week later. My actions still haunt me to this day if I let them. I made new friends at the end of that year (they’re all really just people I used to hang out with in elementary school and stuff like that).

9th grade was cruel. If I was able to summon my broken down, 6th grade self, I would without hesitation I began listening to heavy metal. Looking back at memories, I can only now see the symptoms of a gothic version of me forming. So now it’s obvious.

I’m a freak.

People take a look at my clothing, but they don’t see it. My parents/guardians won’t let me be a goth because I’m black, black doesn’t look good on me, and “goths and emos are racist”. It pisses me off.

People made fun of me because they knew I wouldn’t do anything about it. Someone once told me, “If you’re a quiet kid, you’ll be noticed more and get made fun of.” I feel there’s a fine line between being quiet and shy and being quiet and standoffish. I was standoffish in 6th grade. I don’t know what to do. I can’t have my rights or justice or anything. My parents won’t listen to me. People at school won’t listen to me. So why talk at all? If frosting on a cake resembles stress, the cake would have exploded by now. Now because of my lack of justice, I’m moving to a new school because “my goth friends are negatively influencing me” (quoted by parents). They took my phone away because they told me that I’m lying when I said that I have homework to do.

Also, this may be debatable to whoever’s reading this, but it always seems like my guardians are babying me. In middle school, I wasn’t allowed to take books to school. I can’t take makeup to school either. They go through my backpack  because they don’t trust me (and I’m sure we all that hurts). I have this notebook I got for school, but I got in trouble for bringing it to school because I use it for drawing when I get bored at school. I can’t check out library books because they think I’ll destroy them.

I’m so tired of my life and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I don’t want your pity or sympathy. Just some simple advice. That’s all.