My Missing Puzzle Piece

Chapter Two

Arielle-

I knew what I was doing was wrong. I mean it's not like I actually wanted to die, I just wanted a way to feel better and cutting myself seemed like the only option.

When my mother had her breakdown, my dad mentioned that I was probably going to be just like her. That freaked me out. I didn't wanna grow old and hate my life forever. I wanted a change and I wanted that change to be good. I couldn't imagine myself being this way forever. Here I was, at 16, a sophomore in high school and already hating my life. You're probably thinking "Why can't you get out and forget your problems?" It wasn't that easy. I didn't have many friends and even if I did, my dad wouldn't allow me to go out with them. It's how much of an asshole he really is.

He only lets us go out with our friends if we haven't been a pain in his ass and it seems like these days, it was unlikely possible that I would be able to go out. It's the same thing everyday: Go to school, come home, do homework, eat dinner, clean around the house and then go to bed. He didn't really believe in hanging out with friends or having friends unless it involved alochol and trust me, that's disgusting.

I only had two friends. Abby and Nicole. We've been friends since grade school and they've been with me through everything- well almost everything. They know my dad acts out and about my mom but they have no idea what I go through. They think that I just shrug it off. They don't know my pain or what I do and if I ever tell them- I don't think they'd see me the same. They think I'm just Arielle- the A and B student who tends to wear too much black, making people think she's emo and who gets teased by all the jocks.

I was practically invisble to some people. I sometimes wish I was to the jocks though, or skaters or popular boys, whatever you wanna call them. The guys who think they rule everything. There was the main one- Justin Bieber. We knew each other since grade school and trust me, it wasn't a very fun memory. He would sometimes push me, he would make fun of me, he'd tell jokes about me with his friends and he was just plain annoying and mean. Him and his so called cool friends owned the school, or at least that's what they think.

I knew he hated me because every single girl was over him- expect me. Even Abby and Nicole liked him and his friends. I don't see how they could. All they do is never listen to the teachers, ditch school, party and probably drink and smoke, which was stupid. They aren't cool or whatever they think they are. He really needs to grow up. When he got his new car, Abby and Nicole went crazy. They even got to sit in it with him. They had asked me if I wanted to join. I automatically shook my head. "Are you kidding me? Sit in a car with that dick? No thank you."

I hated him. I knew hate was a strong word but I didn't care. We had three classes together and in one class, we sit next to each other. It was horrible. I really just wanted to burst and say "Who do you think you are?" Because really, him and his harsh words to me wasn't helping my so called depression. He called me tons of names that I don't even wanna name because he is that heartless.

I rolled my eyes just thinking about him. He had his other friends and they didn't say much to me but they'd always look at me and say things to each other- probably making fun of me or something. So maybe I don't dress like all the other girls and maybe I don't look like them either, what was so bad about being different? Everyday at school i'd wear skinny jeans and a random hoodie..while other girls wore jean shorts and small tanks or shirts that showed all of their breasts hanging out- not pretty. Abby and Nicole dressed average but I was somehow jealous of them. They have nature beauty- I don't. I have to add on tons of makeup in order to "feel" pretty and I never feel pretty- ever. It's another reason why I hate my life so much. Even though half of the girls are skanks in this school, they're so pretty and I'm not. I thought to myself sometimes- Why was I even born?