I’ve contemplated typing this...

Hundreds of times I’ve wanted to start typing and let my emotions out, but I never see the point. If this gets anywhere to the point where someone reads this. Then I am long gone. Whatever fraction of myself is left hopes that this will never see the light of day to anyone. Or if it does, I hope the reader studies my words and reaches out for me.

I have a hard time reaching out to people, even with the friends that I have... They never seem to notice my broken smile.

Before I drag on into my life story, allow me to clarify that this does in fact happen to people. And I pray that I am not the only one.

There’s two things you should know before I begin.

I am not suicidal, never have been. Even though I’m beaten by the thoughts of it, I never considered it a reasonable option for a man like me.

I’m very good at hiding how I feel... But there are days where I seem to show it just a little bit as a sort of self conscious way of letting someone know that I’m not okay. But no one would notice, or perhaps they didn’t even care.

Now, with that out of the way. Let me begin with a simple introduction just in case a stranger is reading this, and if that’s the case, what are you doing on my computer?

My name is Silver Strings, but my nickname is Leon. It’s what most people call me anyway. Well, the rest like to call me g-string because of my name which is sooooo original. But, even as those words type out on my screen... It still hurts.

Picture yourself inside a bubble. From the outside it’s easy to pop, easy to move and control. But on the inside it’s like being trapped in a room with no way out, mindlessly floating around. The only hope is before you hit the ground something outside the bubble pops it, but instead the only thing that saves you is the ground.

That’s exactly how my life is. Only I’m stuck in midair with nothing to save me. Trapped in this godforsaken bubble that keeps me from being free to make my own choices, but instead I’m forced to go in a direction I don’t want to go in. Just to save my own skin.

Call me selfish but there’s really nothing I can tell you that will give you the glimmer of hope that no one ever gave me. There was never really a happy ending for me...

How about starting from the beginning? Let’s start with my family, which is the only reason I’m even still kicking with energy.

My mother has a tough attitude, but on the inside she’s a very caring person even though she tends to not let anyone see that part of her. Even from her own son might I add.

My father is known as a comedian. He believes that going through life without smiling and having a laugh is not a way to live. Wait until he realizes his son’s smile sometimes is weak or fake. I’m not completely emotionless, I just have to fake it sometimes. It’s kind of lonely.

I’m kind of treasured by them, but they always kept me on my toes and teach me to fend for myself when it comes to life. I really appreciate that they look after me like that.

Nothing about my home life would ever make me change where I am. The only thing I do hate is leaving home and entering what I call Purgatory, stuck for 7+ hours in a place that does nothing but torture me.

Welcome to Lakewood High, the embodiment of all my misery. Because all the people there are out for themselves, and I don’t understand why I don’t try to escape. Maybe it’s because I need the education... But what’s the use in getting an education when you are being pushed around by people who think their legends but they are just like me. There to learn and to leave. Plain and simple. I guess it isn’t that easy....

Spending an entire day afraid of how people will treat you is terrifying, that’s why I have a harder time getting up in the morning. Being alone with my thoughts causes me to breakdown. The worst part is being alone during this time.

The only person I’ve ever broken down in front of was my best friend Dubstep. Even though he lives hundreds of miles from me due to him moving away, he’s always there online for me to talk to when I’m down.

Having a target on your back is horrible. I believe the only reason people picked on me was because they were jealous. If your life is in the dumps and you feel like at any moment you can break down crying... And then you meet this kid who’s all happy go lucky and loves life... Some people would let those be, but the majority want to break down those kinds of people. It’s wrong.

And ever since those days I continued on to freshmen year of High School. Both Elementary and Middle School have brought me lower and lower into this pit that is hard to escape from. But who cares, I embrace the pit anyway.

I left Middle School with a fake smile during the Graduation Ceremony. During the last days the bullies made it nothing but hell for me.

Standing alongside other classmates as we surrounded a table to play this card game. I wanted nothing more than to leave that place with a real smile, but I’m afraid I wasn’t the only one with plans.

As I chuckled at a joke that was shared, I turned too late to find one of the biggest bullies slam into me. He ended up knocking me into a chair, and I practically almost cut my hip open as I hit the floor.

The guy laughed and played it off like he didn’t push me that hard when the other students saw me fly into the chair that was five feet from me. A shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins as I brought myself to my feet. Ready to start swinging.

But as I clenched my fist as I took as step forward toward this bully, I stopped suddenly. A thought appeared in my head explaining that he wasn’t worth my time. So, I simply pointed at him and said. “You’re lucky I’m graduating.” Before returning to my seat in the corner of class and not saying anything more afterwards.

I remember turning towards the Teacher who heard and saw the entire thing.

And he didn’t do a single thing, just sat in his chair with a finger so far up his rear end with not a care in the world.

This was a tipping point... After the ceremony, I went home for the summer and hid myself in my room.

I shut out so many emotions inside of me that I couldn’t think straight. I knew that there was no way that people will care enough to stand up for a person in need. Everyone just cares for themselves. Nothing to it.

After a month passed, my father began to notice that the only time I came out of my room was for dinner. Joined by my mother they confronted me during dinner. Asking me if there was anything they could do for me, or invited me to family events. All sounded quite interesting but I just didn’t feel like it. I just wanted to go back into my room and sleep.

I knew they were just worried about me... And yet, I still snapped at them. Getting on my nerves with the constant questioning, they insisted on me telling them “what was going on?” “Why I was hiding in my room?” “Why I never went out to hang out with friends?” Then, I finally let it out.

“Because I hate myself alright!?” As soon as those words escaped me, I realized those words were true. I indeed only cared if others were happy while I stayed broken... I didn’t want anyone to feel like I did.

I picked up a napkin from the middle of the table, wiped off the remnant’s left from the food, thanked them for dinner, before retreating to my room.

The next day, my dad knocked on my door and asked if he could come in. At first I didn’t say anything, but I indulged and told him to come in.

This begun a long conversation, half of it I don’t even remember. But the last half was me telling him everything, I could see that what was happening to me crushed him.

It’s been a few days since then, and things proceeded as normal.

Except for one thing my father mentioned. He got a new job in a new city, there’s also a place my mom can transfer from her work as well.

So, in this new home, I write this the day before I start High School at Canterlot High. Constant thoughts of what it might be like constantly toss themselves around my head. I just hope it turns out better than what I went through. I’m glad my father gave me this new start.

I’m running out of ideas on what to write, so I guess I’ll end here.

If you’ve read this all the way through. Thank you... But also I’m sorry. As it may have turned out this school was just as worse as the other.

As he finishes typing, he stares at the last sentence he typed before pulling away from the computer. The cramp in his hands didn’t bother him, what did bother him was the really bad urge to pee after typing all that out.

Author's Note

Ended with a little bit of comedy, who doesn't like Comic Relief in stories rather than just complete sadness.

This is the first chapter and I hope to continue this later on if people enjoy it.