On the outside you see me smile,
but on the inside I'mean screaming.
I often wished and prayed, that it were i dead and not my sister.
I would take prescription drugs by the bottles to try and stop the pain,
and even slash my arms.
They only helped for short periods and I needed something more.
My head is full of madness,
with the voices telling me
I'm no good and worthless.
Why can't the pain go away and let me live a happy life.
I finally found my happy place
in Puffing on ICE.
It helped me forget my pain and be in my own perfect world.
I almost lost my life from it,
on more than 1 occasion.
But for some reason I can't go on without it.
I'm feeling so depressed and flat right now because I haven't had any for over a week.
I guess that shows how fucked up
I really am, to have to rely on that.
What is wrong with me.
Author Notes: This is only a small portion of my depression and my first short story to be submitted.