Work Text:
Stares and glares are all I get walking down these halls. I wonder about it. Stares and glares are equivalent to swords and knifes slicing into the back of head. why they stare and glare is no mystery.
I hear the whispers. they take no pride in themselves, and retreat to the trends in the media safe from everyone, you refuse to give in.
Insecurity. the thing that comes after the stares and glares. these insecurities stared when they said not what you said but what they said. you start to give in but only slightly trying not to make it too noticeable. I still heard what they said. as my grandmother told me to be truly irreplaceable you must always be different, but how is anyone different if they dress and act the same, not speaking their minds? there not.
They're clones, copying each other hoping not to get stares and glares but little do they know the thing they're afraid to receive is the gift they're giving. Depression: the thing that follows insecurity. feeling lonely in a room full of people, an everlasting cloud of sadness, falling deeper and deeper into society's pit of shame and despair. We know what comes next.
Suicide: how did this happen you may ask; just a few stares and glares.
Sincerely,
Ember Green
(AKA a Quiet mess of a Fangirl)