Remember when I died? No, probably not. As you stood there laughing in my face, pushing and shoving me, telling me everything that was wrong with me... I fell. I fell hard. I've fallen before, but when I fall that hard...
I wasn't me anymore.
Breaking down and crying, your laughter increased, and you called upon others to join you. It's fun to see someone cry, fun to see their world being torn apart, fun to have nothing more to live fo--
Where did that knife come from? Was I carrying it around with me? Did you have it? Who knows... I don't remember. But it's on you. My blood is on your hands.
But you're happy now. You're happy I'm gone. You're all happy I'm gone. I'm just sad I didn't get a chance to write my suicide letter. Hmm, you'd probably laugh at that too. Because I'm so funny. Because my pain is so funny. Because my death is so funny.
What about my friends? Are they sad I'm gone? Of course not. No one can be trusted. Everyone will betray their most loyal friends. People I barely know who have given me support for things I didn't expect support for...
I wasn't perfect. But who is? Bring me that perfect person. Bring me that person who's never cried, who's never yelled at someone, who's never made a mistake.
You must be that perfect someone. To laugh and push and hurt... it's so easy because your life is so easy. Oh, and it's so much fun. I was a mistake anyway, born from a slut without a brain. And to think I had come so far, that I had outshown both of my parents combined... for what? Nothing.
I'm not special. You've proven that I'm the exact opposite. I was never meant to be here.
Now do you remember? Remember when I died? Yeah, you do. And you still laugh about it.
I DID NOTHING WRONG.