HermitCraft Things And Shit(Mainly Doc Focused)

Unwanted

The child awoke from a deep slumber and cried. They knew it wasn't right, that they couldn't be who they wanted. There always felt unwanted and disliked, stupid and failing, never good enough. Their father and birthgiver, who wasn't a mother to them, always ignored the student. They played games and cheated, drank and smoke, gambled and hit. The child knew that it wasn't right, police should be involved, but.....they.. we're scared. So scared. That if they spoke about their pain it wouldn't help. They...no. it's not they, it's me. I'm scared to speak up, to show myself, so act on my thoughts, say what I feel. When I do? I. Get. Hit. I've never wanted to say who I am. But I will. And if you read this? Be happy. I won't be here for quite some time. Stress and work just pile up. The art and chapters are paining me deeply, stabbing my chest and making me cry. I... I am not Jeremy. They left long ago. After he left. And he shall not be named. I'm.... I'm Delaney, I have an older brother named Nicholas, a father named Eric, a grandma named Maryanne, and a... mother.. named Carrie. My mother and grandma smoke, Carrie gets drunk and has sex when I'm awake, Nicholas hits me, dad doesn't call me. I'm bisexual and I'm real life friends with Cookieartistfox. They're my best friend and they listen. I have social aniexty, depression, and slight bipolar. I have horrible anger issues, but online I try to to stay happy. I can't fucking deal with the stress and pain. The knife has been beckoning me for years, I feel watched, i know nobody cares. No one would even notice if I died. I'm just a waste of space. So. If I die, don't even look twice. I'm not special. At all. One person has discovered my gender but if you call me anything I won't fucking care. It doesn't matter. I've given up on hope long ago. I can't tell emotions beside anger, sadness, fear, and a sliver of happiness. I look dead inside no matter what, and I'm a lazy price of shit. Don't worry about me, because I'm fine. Don't think you need to help me. I just need to leave for a bit. I'll be back next week. I promise. Not that it'll mean anything.