Side note (or top note, whichever)
This is written as I was thinking it at the time, to try and give better insight as to what my thought processes (or lack thereof) were at a time where I was completely manic and not thinking straight. The dates are as accurate as possible, and the accounts are perfectly true. These stories occurred at was most likely the worst time in my life mentally, and part of that entails that dates, minor details, and timeframes may be off.

01-04-07
My first day back from Winter Break. Not everyone’s, just mine. I decided not to go yesterday. Sleeping in is a hard habit to break, and plus I’m an adult now, have been for just over two weeks.
Even then, I feel as if high school has nothing left to offer me. I’ve had my fun, I’ve caused my trouble. It’s time to move on.
I park my uninsured, un-paid-for car on the street, expired tags and all. I don’t have books to grab – I never brought them home. Marching in through the back door, a guard grabs me and informs me that the vice principal needs to see me.
Wonderful.
I don’t like this guy. He’s new this year and doesn’t like me either. Why I caught the luck of having an administration change my senior year I will never know. I miss Teetaert.
I walk slowly into his office. Hey, this at least saves me a trip – I was going to drop out today anyways, and I’ve heard this is the guy to go to for that. However, it doesn’t matter.
Fifteen minutes and one lecture later, I am a free psycho. High school is not just a memory, for I am not out of every class due to attendance (or lack thereof). Eh, school was never my thing anyways – I’m too badass to bother being awake while some bitch tells me stuff I already know. What’s the point? I know it all; I’m smarter than anyone else in this place.
I try to see who else is out of class before I leave one last time. I left my boyfriend three days prior out of the blue, so that leaves one less person to track down and disappoint. I run into a few freshmen and let them know what’s going on – I can’t read their faces; I have no idea what they think. I finally walk out without a glance back. One thing I’m sure of though – I will remember this day for the rest of my life.
I have a smoke on the way home, a bad habit I picked up again last year. Nothing beats Camel Menthol. I chill at home for a few hours, catching bad talk shows and The Price is Right before heading to work. The work I do is boring, and I may lose my job soon because of my therapist.
My father has me in therapy. He is convinced that there is something wrong with me, even though I am sure there isn’t. He and the therapist have decided it’s time to send me to a mental facility. Personally, I can’t see how being locked up is supposed to make you better.

Unknown "Wait... What?!" Neglected - 16 years, 11 months, 7 days ago