Let Me Be the Bad Guy

Let me be the bad guy.

I will be more than happy to be the one to wreck havoc on the city. I'll fight for evil and try to rid all the good from the world. I'll build death rays and make plans to destroy and rule the world. I will tease and torture people. I'll steal candy from babies, have a torture dungeon in my basement, and hurt the innocent without an ounce of guilt.

I don't want you to regret what you did because I was good to you. Stop thinking of me being nice girl you hurt. I keep reminding you of what you did, I keep making you feel guilty. Don't trust me. Don't care for me. I hurt you and I continue to do so by separating myself from you. Think of me as an evil demon, scrolling through the woods and killing all the goodness I find.

Stop picturing me as a beautiful creature with love in my heart that you hurt. Let me be evil, a monster under your bed, feeding off innocent screams. Make me a monster in your mind. Think of me as juts that-- an evil villain who treated you as just another victim.

Don't be guilty because you hurt me. Be mad I made you feel guilty. Let all of this be my fault. I'm more than happy to take the blame.

It won't be so bad being a villain. I can wear a cool cape and inventions. I can work in secrecy until I start to gain control. I can change the rules for the better. I can make the world a better, happier world.

Let me be the villain in your mind. You can be just another victim I hurt. You can be my enemy. You can be my friend who you have suspicions of. You can be anything you wish as long as you stop feeling guilty for hurting me.

I hurt you. I tried to make beauty ugly. I tried to hurt the good. I'm not forgiving, I'm not beautiful, I'm not someone you can feel guilty for hurting. I hurt you with no mercy and will do it again to every new beautiful person who enters my life.

That's what villains do.

-- Amber

Death

I've planned my death.

That's an absolutely depressing way to start a post. I don't mean I have everything planned. I don't know when I'll die, or what exactly will kill me. I have no idea where I'll do it. I just know how it'll happen. 

I know that, most likely, I'm going to die in a car accident. I don't know whether this will be on my own terms, someone else's, the weathers, or alcohols, but I know that I'll die this way. I've known this since last year when I had to fight every day not to drive myself over a hill or into another car.

What stopped me from doing it then? Mostly, I worried about what my parents would think. Would they think I was weak and killed myself? Would they get upset for having to pay for insurance? What would my little brother do? 

I don't even want to think about my little brother having to live without his big sister. He looks up to me so much. If I died, I feared what he'd do.

Even though I stopped having to fight an urge, I still wonder sometimes when I'm driving. 

What would happen if I drove my car off a cliff on the way to school? How long would it be before they found me? Would my journalism class continue as normal to finish before deadline? Would the crash even kill me or would I just be injured and forced to pay for the damage? 

So many questions, none of which can be answered unless I try it.

Don't worry though, I'm not going to try it. If I tried now, I'd miss so much. Graduation, my first day of college. I'd never marry a pretty girl or be a mother. I'd never get the chance to have a baby girl who I can remind every day is beautiful and strong. I will never have a book published, I'll never live to be a starving artist. I'll never travel the world or visit my internet friends in person. There's so much I'll miss that I can't bare to.

One day, I will die. Everyone dies one day, so it's not like that's a surprise. Although I hope it could be in my sleep with no pain, I know it'll be a car driving into something. I just hope that when the day comes, the only person to be injured will be me. I want no one in my car with me, just me with death in the passenger seat.

Such a scary way to die. I hope it'll be like a roller coaster, but with a drop that never ends.

-Amber

To You

I'm sorry. Things are over, done with, and I keep bringing up in.

In my writing, my words, my posts, I keep reminding you that I'm not happy about what happened. I wish there was a way I could turn back time. I wish a little blue box will come by and take me back in time so I can warn myself not to do it.

Don't fall for the girl obsessed with video games. Fight the urges you have to talk to her all the time. Let your feelings grow on the girl who tastes of cigarettes, not her. Enjoy the friendship of the girl you met on tumblr. Don't grow attached to her.

But I did. And unfortunately, there is no way to turn back time.

And every time I mention even once that it's hard to go back to just friends, you somehow end up hearing it and I continue to hurt you and guilt you without wanting to. It's the last I want to do.
I'm so sorry for everything.

From this day forth, I plan to continue as your friend. I'm not moving on, although I know there are people who can help me do it. My feelings will still be there, but I will not dread on them. I'll ignore them as best as I can, just as I did for months.

I've done it before. I can do it again.

I'm sorry for hurting you. For guilt-tripping you. For everything I have ever done.

- Amber.

Questions I Could Never Ask You

How have you been? Are you feeling well? How are your grades? Math still causing you problems? Are your parents well? Have you seen any great movies lately? 

What have you done since I last talked to you? Anything interesting? Have you been on any adventures? Read a good book, stolen a street sign, gone skinny dipping? Have you kissed anyone since you kissed me? Have you wanted to? 

Did you have a good Christmas? Did you get everything you wanted? Were you planning on getting me something? Do you know I was going to give you candy and a painted picture from your favorite movie? Did you know I ate all the candy and tore up the picture?

When you broke up with me, did you cry about it? Or did you feel better? Did you feel bad for not calling or telling me in person? Did your fingers slip on the keyboard as you wrote out the letter? Did you hate yourself for ending what I hoped for months? Did you cry the days leading up to it? Do you regret what you did? Do you regret even saying yes?

Did your hands tremble and your eyes water when you wrote the apology note? Or was it a last minute idea that you wrote at the end of the class period when you finished your work or while the teacher was giving a lecture because you felt guilty for just saying goodbye and then going back as if nothing had happened? Did someone give you a full bag of Skittles? Did you feel it was necessary to give me half a bag of candy when you gave me the note?

How would you feel if you knew I crumbled up the note? That I tossed it in my backpack and threw all my books on top of it? That I nearly cried at my locker while reading it? That I did cry in my car once I finally made it? That any hope I had of it being fixed was gone after that?

Do you know how much I miss you? That I can’t bear to be around you and act like things are normal? How could things be normal after I told you all my feelings? How can you expect me to go back to being friends with no feelings for one another?  

Have you noticed I don’t talk to you as often? That I hardly reply to you? That every day, I talk to you less and less because I can’t get over everything I feel for you and that you know it? I can’t take my feelings back or every word I ever told you, so how can you expect me to go on as normal? Do you hate me for doing it? Do you wish I’d talk to you more? Are you worried I’ll ruin this friendship?

Do you know how much I regret everything? That I regret asking you out and telling you how wonderful you are and how much I care about and how long I’ve cared. I regret kissing you and trying to help you and feeling horrible when you didn’t talk to me.  I hate that when I see you in the hallway or you talk to me, I get angry and sad and won’t talk to you.

Are you going to read this? If you do, I regret writing this. I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have. I don’t want you to hate me more than you do.

-- Amber

Returning to School

Returning to school can be a pain, painful process after you have a long break. Or even after a short break, like spring break or Christmas break. After spending two weeks watching Netflix, playing Pokemon until my eyes were sore and my team reached level 100 (Okay, Venasaur is a level 89 but he'll be there soon), and being completely antisocial, I was clearly not ready to go back to school.

I suppose you could say my break was rough. My (now ex) girlfriend-- who I liked for so long-- broke up with me after only a month of dating, I was hit with a returning creepy feeling for half of the break, and a new hairstylist cut my hair too short and made it asymmetrical. My break could have gone so much easier. 

Also, school's not easy for me. I'm not a failing student, but I'm also not a passing grade-A student. Okay, I might as well be a failing student. Last year I failed three classes and managed to get my GPA under 2.0 (Can we just blame this on the fact that my sanity and mental well-being was literally hanging on a thread?) 

At least this semester I managed to pass all my classes. (Four C's, Three A's. I did okay.) 

Back to my point, school is far from easy for me-- although it's not surprising considering I'm horrible at studying, never read books given to me, and hate math equations with a burning passion-- and with the combination of annoying people around me, the lack of great friends, and the constant scratching of panic attacks and depression trying to tear its way through me, it would make sense why I don't like school. And yet, I still have to be forced to get out of my warm, comfortable bed in the morning and head to a horrible building five days a week.

After a long break, I returned to new classes, new teachers, more homework, and a horrible dread constantly weighing me down. 

I wonder how many lovely readers feel the same way? School isn't fun for many of us. It may have it's moments but mostly it's just pain and sorry for many of us. Making it through even just one horrible day can be a miracle and a perfect excuse to celebrate with ice cream and chocolate. 

I know this new semester will cause many more worries and stress than school ever should, and starting the new semester will feel strange and new. It's okay to not be excited and uncomfortable with the new changes. 

But remember that everything will be okay. The uncomfortable feeling of dread will disappear and school with become a routine again. Everything will continue to go by smoothly and before we know it, summer will be back.

That almost sounds horrible when you think about it. Some of us will be getting used to the pain and uncomfortable feelings. The stress and worry will still be there but we'll get into a rut and just view it as another part of the day.

Is that what school teaches us? To get used to pain?

What a horrible thought.

A thought that should be brought up for another day. 

Right now, let's grab some ice cream or pizza or candy, snuggle under our blankets, turn on a movie, and congratulate ourselves for making it through another day.

You did great today and you'll do just as great tomorrow.

-- Amber.

New Blue Hair :3

I dyed my hair completely blue over the weekend. It's almost funny to think about how in my freshman year, I thought I would never end up bleaching my hair.

In ninth grade, I dyed my hair completely purple without bleaching and decided not to do it again after that because I thought I'd have to be more professional in high school.

Now I'm completely blue and I love it.

Funny how things change.

Why A Bad Haircut can ruin more than just your day

I decided to get a few inches off my hair before the new school year started. I went into Supercuts, asked the hairdresser I have never used before to cut my hair about two inches below my shoulders and cut my layers short with them. Nothing too drastic.

Instead of that, one side rested right on my shoulder while the other was an inch higher.  All my layers were gone. Apparently, she thought I meant to cut my hair as short as my layers. Now, my neck always cold when I'm outside, my hair tickles my neck, and everything is too short. I can't even wear a ponytail anymore.

The day after I had my hair cut, I went to a different place and had it cut by someone who knew what she was doing. My hair is still too short and I still hate it, but at least it's not uneven anymore.

Whenever someone says they like my haircut, I say thanks and tell them the hairdresser messed up. If I say I don't like it, people try to reassure me that it looks great and that I really pull it off. Every time I see someone complain about their hair, people always tell them to shut up and that they look great.

"You're hair looks cute with that hair cut."
"You're friends aren't going to hate you now that it's short."
"It'll grow back eventually, don't worry."
"I couldn't ever pull that off. You look so good with it."

SHUT UP
Alright?
Just be quiet and listen to me.

I really don't care if someone thinks I look good with my hair shorter. I don't care if anyone thinks it looks good. I don't care what anyone thinks about my new haircut because I don't like it at all.

When I groan and complain about my hair, I do not want anyone to give me compliments. I don't want to hear about how it looks great. Saying I look good with it won't make it grow faster. When I cry about my haircut, I would be more than okay with people agreeing it looks bad and maybe give me advice on how to style it or where to buy some good cheap extensions. 

A haircut is supposed to keep your hair healthy and make you feel confident about yourself. when you have a bad haircut, all the confidence is swept away with your hair. A nice hairstyle is one of the easiest and simplest ways to make you feel more confident about your body. 

Compliments are great, yes. But when someone is clearly upset about their hair, saying it looks nice won't change how they feel. Sometimes just bringing up their haircut can continue to lower their self esteem. 

 -- Amber.