Chapter One

 I just want to be loved, is that so wrong? Is it so wrong to want to be as good as Amelia? She’s always getting the attention, and everyone loves her best. No one even casts a second glance at me. Am I that insignificant here? Even mum doesn’t care what I do. No one cares where I’ve been or who I’ve been with. It’s always “Amelia this, Amelia that,”

Could it hurt to be acknowledged once in a while instead of being treated like I’m invisible?

Is it really that hard to love a girl like me? What’s wrong with me? Is it my hair? My smile? My face?

What does it take for someone to know I’m alive? My pain? My suffering? My death?

Hah! If only they knew.

If only they knew that pain was what it takes for me to know that I’m still alive. If only they knew it was the burning cuts I engrave on my arms and legs to remind myself that I’m still alive. If only they’d know that to see my own blood fall into the river, I’d remember I’m still awake. That I’m still breathing. That this isn’t just one big nightmare. If only they knew how I release all this pain inside. If someone came to this bridge I sit on, would they even care to notice me, or would I blend in with the night’s shadows?

Would anyone see me then? Because they certainly don’t now. Does it really have to take a death or a tragedy to make them see a girl like me?

A girl who hasn’t much to offer them at all.

A girl who isn’t loved and appreciated like her sister.

A girl who isn’t the wonderful Amelia.

A girl like me….

Again, I am reminded, as I sit on this bridge, that I am not trapped in a horrible dream.

I still hurt.

I’m still alive.

--E.E.Rice