This is my first shabiki fic... and hopefully I will be continuing on this! Enjoy!
My name is Alice. I'm eleven years young. My life has been all... unicorns until this year. It's sort of like all the fun has been cut off from my life. Like adults and other people alike all want me to have a short childhood. It's strange, because it seems as if everyone else is having loads of excitement in their lives. But I'm the only one who is at home, trying not to cut myself everyday because of all the stress in my life. It's difficult not to, and I haven't spoke to anyone so far. I don't want to be sent to a mental hospital. I'm not mental.... am I? I think that's wewe to decide and for me to find out.
All of this... drama started when a girl in our class named Stacy decided to write a note and send it to one of my BFFs, Skylar. It said, "Alice, Skylar, and Sarah... wewe will definitely regret being mean to me in the end." The first thought that came to my mind was, "Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone say that? And sekunde of all, her name is faded at the bottom of the note but it's still obvious to see. Why? Why? Why?!?! Stacy was my friend... au at least I thought she was. Why would anyone think of something so pathetic... yet something so vengeful?"
Well it turned out that she told our teacher Mrs. Harris... and she blamed it on Skylar. I didn't understand. Now Stacy was also being immature and making fun of my other best friends' hairstyles, clothes, shoes, and much more! I mean, grow up! Seriously!! Not only that... Stacy was also crying to our teacher... and making a huge sob story out of it. I was pissed... and sort of sad at how my best friend changed so much. Oh, au should I say ex best friend.
My name is Alice. I'm eleven years young. My life has been all... unicorns until this year. It's sort of like all the fun has been cut off from my life. Like adults and other people alike all want me to have a short childhood. It's strange, because it seems as if everyone else is having loads of excitement in their lives. But I'm the only one who is at home, trying not to cut myself everyday because of all the stress in my life. It's difficult not to, and I haven't spoke to anyone so far. I don't want to be sent to a mental hospital. I'm not mental.... am I? I think that's wewe to decide and for me to find out.
All of this... drama started when a girl in our class named Stacy decided to write a note and send it to one of my BFFs, Skylar. It said, "Alice, Skylar, and Sarah... wewe will definitely regret being mean to me in the end." The first thought that came to my mind was, "Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone say that? And sekunde of all, her name is faded at the bottom of the note but it's still obvious to see. Why? Why? Why?!?! Stacy was my friend... au at least I thought she was. Why would anyone think of something so pathetic... yet something so vengeful?"
Well it turned out that she told our teacher Mrs. Harris... and she blamed it on Skylar. I didn't understand. Now Stacy was also being immature and making fun of my other best friends' hairstyles, clothes, shoes, and much more! I mean, grow up! Seriously!! Not only that... Stacy was also crying to our teacher... and making a huge sob story out of it. I was pissed... and sort of sad at how my best friend changed so much. Oh, au should I say ex best friend.
I write what i feel and try to
make them seem so-real to
you, but all wewe want from me
is honesty.
as i write out the facts
wewe act like wewe don't really
care where my moyo truly is.
Let me tell wewe where it
is, it's in the honesty of my
poetry, deep inside my moyo
it's the only thing that reveals
the emotions deep down inside
my soul.
as i hold onto the emotions
that creates honest poetry
that i write, i see wewe looking
at my private diaries understanding
who i want to be.
wewe look at me and wewe
seem to know what i'm
feeling as i'm revealing
to wewe the emotions that
comes from within my
soul.
as i hold the key to this
honest poetry that i compose
wewe seem to believe every-little
detail that i have to say to you.
make them seem so-real to
you, but all wewe want from me
is honesty.
as i write out the facts
wewe act like wewe don't really
care where my moyo truly is.
Let me tell wewe where it
is, it's in the honesty of my
poetry, deep inside my moyo
it's the only thing that reveals
the emotions deep down inside
my soul.
as i hold onto the emotions
that creates honest poetry
that i write, i see wewe looking
at my private diaries understanding
who i want to be.
wewe look at me and wewe
seem to know what i'm
feeling as i'm revealing
to wewe the emotions that
comes from within my
soul.
as i hold the key to this
honest poetry that i compose
wewe seem to believe every-little
detail that i have to say to you.
