Chapter Twenty Four

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I'm not in the best mood right now. So sorry about this chapter.

Trigger warning is in this chapter.

*

- Have you ever felt like you were drowning? Even though you weren't? Us as humans try to be the best that they can, but no one will reach their goals. Not one single person. Babies grow up without a mother or father, some babies are killed in the womb, and some have to deal with the harshness of their parents. People fake a smile, try to act normal, but on the inside, they are dying. Some even think that death seems like the better option. Sometimes it might be. Hell, I wouldn't want to know that one day my daughter or son could be raped, murdered, kidnapped, and I could do nothing about it. We always want to impress someone else, but that person wants to impress someone else and the chain continues. What's the point of staying? We could just leave. But leaving invokes a morgue. Sometimes it seems easier to give up. It's better that way. Why do some people act like they care? They act like they care and then they call you names and abuse you. Everyone hides behind a shell of what they used to be. No one is the same. I wish I could be the innocent young child again that didn't understand proper English. The child who thought that everyone loved everyone. When in reality, that's so different. We all use each other. For a cheap laugh, a joke, money, sex, no one is innocent anymore. They were striped of that the second they stepped foot into the real world. Sadly, I was forced to grow up at a young age. I had to learn to take care of myself, cook, and clean. Yet, no one cares that I do these things. I get brushed under the rug like a piece of dirt. Is there a reason I'm still alive? It's not like I have anyone. My friends would thank me, my family would laugh if I died. I'm a waste of space, a failure, and overall useless. I don't trust myself with most things. How could I trust others if I can't trust myself? I can't love others if I hate myself. I'm lonely and that is how it will be for a while. I can't get around that. Sometimes... I wonder if I disappeared, would anyone miss me? Would they be happy? More money saved by not paying for me, less food used, another room for someone else. Why must we play the game of living? Whats the point? In three hundred years, no ones going to remember your name nor are they going to care. Death is just five letter word to some. Killing yourself seems fun and exciting. Maybe then they'll get out of the hell hole that they are in. Sometimes I wonder if that's the best option for me. Killing myself. Sometimes it would be better for everyone else. They would be happy. I'm doing no one any good by being here. My friends would move on, my family would move on, no one would remember me. Maybe I should give it a try.

Brooke wrote, as she sat next Ryan on the couch. Brendon had gotten her a leather covered booklet a while ago. She only now has finally begin to write in it. Ryan was dozing off beside her, while the show was playing in the background. The lights were off, only leaving the kitchen light on. Brooke sighed and begun to write again.

- But I know Brendon and Ryan love me. As much I don't think they do, they do. Brendon knows how to make a joke that lights up the room and he's caring and sweet, Ryan is always there for me and he's sweet, I really do love them both. Sometimes I just can't admit it. I'm just... Broken... Broken after Sarah. I just can't trust people anymore. I've nearly slipped up a few times by calling Brendon, 'dad'. I want to call him dad but I'm scared he wouldn't let me call him that. Along with Ryan. I think of Ryan as my dad too. I just don't know what to call them. I'll just call him dad in this notebook. I'm not mad at dad. He was drunk and drunk people are sometimes stupid. He just scared me, he grabbed my wrist and pulled on the cuts on my arm. I over reacted and freaked out. He snapped at Ryan today but that was an accident also. Dad is just stressed so is Ryan. I feel bad because I'm causing them stress. Ryan said that they didn't know how to act around me. I love both of them none the less. Maybe I could come up with a name for Ryan.
Like DadRy? No.
Ryfather? Hell no.
Rydad? Hmm. That sounds cool. Plus it sounds like Ryden. One day I might call him that. If he's comfortable with it. I guess that's the end of this day, I've used almost three pages. I'll write more when Brendon gets back. I'm going to try to get this loaf of bread to either fall asleep or wake up.
Goodnight notebook thing.
I love you dad and Rydad.

Brooke finished writing for day. She glanced over and saw that Ryan was passed out before she stood up, brushing the blanket off of her. She didn't want to leave her notebook out in the open, so she retreated back to her room. After flipping on the light in her bedroom, cringing at the bright light, she lifted up the mattress with great effort. She slipped the book between the two mattresses, before dropping the first one. She grabbed her computer, flipped off the light, closed the door, and walked back to down the stairs, being careful not to fall. She sat back on the couch next to Ryan, pulling the blanket back over her. Flipping open the computer lid, she logged into her account, her password being the same as her phone. She opened up Twitter and found that she had over a hundred notification. Man, I should start checking my account.

She clicked on it and found that '@BrendonUrie' has followed her. She gained a little over a million followers. Her eyes widened. Her Twitter was just '@BrookeUrie'. She began working on her account. Placing a photo of her, Ryan, and Brendon as her profile picture and Panic! At The Disco wallpapers as her cover. She saved the work and more notifications came. She was about to check them when there was a slam at the door.

Brendon walked in, causing Ryan and Brooke both to stand up and walk over. Brooke was a little more hesitant, while Ryan rushed over. Brendon walked over to Brooke, frowning down at her. Brooke stared back at him scaredlike.

Brooke was not expecting when he pulled her into a hug.

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