Can I Change?

"Come on Amber, do you really have to dress like that?" My now four year old sister said as I was getting ready for school. Yes you didn't see wrong, my sister, the one who died two years ago.

Even though she is dead, or as I prefer to say she is not here with me, I can still see her. I can't see my parents, only when I am cutting myself or making myself purge I can hear my mom telling me not to do it. If she only knew that is exactly why I do it, to hear her voice.

What Molly meant by telling me not to dress that way is that I shouldn't dress completely in black with my now black bangs (before my hair was blonde) swiped all the way across my face, covering my right eye, and wrist bands covering the scars of the knife that I pass there every day, feeling the pain that I deserve for killing the people that I love.

"Yes Molly I have to dress this way" I say, grabbing my backpack and heading downstairs to make up any excuse for not eating breakfast and going to hell, other known as high school.

I wait for the bus to pick me up, since I can't touch the driver's seat of a car anymore. I get in the yellow colored torture box and sit in a seat in the middle, hoping nobody sits next to me.

Thankfully nobody does, but who would want to sit next to the weird emo girl who killed her parents? Nobody.

I get off the bus to be greeted, or better yet bullied, by the pinl little princess Taylor.

"Hey death girl. Why do you take the bus? No parents to give you a car?" She says as I walk pass her. I hear the two girls behind her laugh and her boyfriend stay completely serious next to her. Not going to laugh Jay? I ask to myself. Whatever, I think and continue walking to the doors of hell.

I pass the crowded halls to find my locker with the red stains of the paint everyone decorates it with words like "EMO" or "BULIMIC" and other words describing exactly how I am. If they only knew I did those things so that I could die, to see them again. But they will never know, because they never listen.