Two Is Better than one (An All Time Low FanFic)

So go ahead and lie to yourself, and pretend that you’re a ray of light when you’re a broken candle. You're keeping time with yourself, when did it all start moving way too fast, for your to handle?

~ Sanctuary

Paradise Fears

All Time Low,

This is it. My time is up. Gone. I realise that now. I need to leave. I  don’t even know why I’m telling you, but I guess, since you are the only people who’ve been there for me, you kinda deserve it. Even if you don’t know that I exist, I can live with that. You probably won’t even read this, but I don’t care, I need to tell someone, and you have the honour, you lucky people.

First of all, my name is Charlotte and I’m 19.  And I live in Llandudno, North Wales. I got through high school with good grades and people had high expectations, as if I could live up to them. I’m a failure.  They all expect me to get some well paid job, big house, fall in love, get married, have perfect grandchildren. The perfect normal life. But I could never do that, and even if I did, I would never live up to my brother.

My perfect brother, don’t get me wrong, I do love him, but that was one of the problems, everyone does. Everyone says that they love me, my family I mean. But they don’t , and even if they do, I will never be as good as him, he was the ideal son, the one everyone was jealous of, he had the brains, the looks, the fitness, the talent, everything. And then there’s me, the self harmer who listens to punk, rock and alternative. The sarcastic bitch who would just sit up in her room listening to music and going on Tumblr. I’m just not right. Never have been and never will be. It took me some time, but I finally understand, I was put here by accident. No one else wanted me so my family got me by default.

That’s not the whole of my problems though, fuck no.  I’m addicted to self harming, I cut, I burn and I scratch. And I get jealous or upset when other people have hurt themselves more, I’m just fucked up. I get these thoughts, horrible, horrible thoughts, stabbing at me, again and again, relentless. I get no break from them, they repeat the things I’ve always been told my people at school and around town. They tell me I’m worthless, ugly, a failure, fat, emo, attention-whore, freak, nerd, pathetic, that I’m better off dead. Well soon I will be.

One of the worst they call me, is unlovable. I know that I am, but it hurts to hear it. I have this fear of always being alone, having no one, a frequent nightmare is that I’m sat in a room full of people, blood pouring out of my cuts, my burns a vibrant red, and me screaming. But no one takes any notice. They don’t in real life either. It’s a living nightmare.

I used to have friends, back in the day when I loved outside, and the world. But then my mum started getting drunk at home, I would come in really happy about a mark I got on a test or some insignificant shit like that, but she would always only care about my brother, I would get a drunken rage and something thrown at me, a book or something, maybe even her fist. I would go upstairs , hearing her talk to my brother about how perfect he was and how proud he made the family, even when she was drunk, she loved him more.

Things got bad at home, dad was always out, working. Mum was always pissed and angry with me. My brother was still perfect, and I was still me. We got into debt, so money was tight, I wouldn’t eat, I would give my brother my food, or slip it onto his plate when he wasn’t looking, no one noticed me gradually becoming thinner. The money stress put more pressure on my dad, him and mum would argue all the time, until eventually, she kicked him out.

I hate her for that.

Wait no, I just hate her.

It didn’t take long for her to find a new boyfriend, and I’m taking this opportunity to say that he’s a cunt. A total cunt. The amount of times I’ve come home and she is crying because of something he’s said. And then I have to pick up the pieces and be there for her, even when she wasn’t there for me.