Work Text:
I am under the impression that nobody here likes me. The cold shoulder is always tossed my way, even by friends, although probably unintentional. ‘Tori Spring is going to die someday’, I tell myself, but will anyone care? I’m not particularly concerned about it, but does anyone truly care about me, or my thoughts?
These feelings tend to resurface often, harsh little reminders to the failure that is my life. Victoria Spring is the quiet girl with very little to say. They’re right. I don’t want to talk to people, nobody understands myself like I do. It’s simply just how it was meant to be.
But I do wonder, despite my own thoughts and logic, if I am allowed to feel alone. I find it’s ‘normal’ to most, but why are these things abnormal to me? I may not be a complete and bloody loser, I do care about those few who are truly close to me, but I feel more isolated than I had ever realized.
If I die some day, hopefully I’m less lonely. It’s a thought entirely out of character but one that seems oddly alright; maybe it’s not out of character?
I don’t know, what character am I supposed to play? The one strange side character who everyone finds unlikable? If that’s the case, I guess I do know where I fit in.