Today, I got yelled at by a teacher.

Within the student body, I have a pretty scary reputation. With teachers, I'm like a model student. Being yelled at by a teacher means I'm slipping from my throne, and that scares me. gonk

I have this thing when people yell. I've been building up these walls around me, but they were broken during summer. When the teacher yelled at me, I was so surprised. Honestly, a teacher hasn't yelled at me since sixth grade, and my sixth grade teacher yells at everyone.

So here I am in science, without my homework done. I could have done my homework, yes, but I didn't. You know why? Because I spent last night attending an Open House at my future highschool, because I actually care for my future.

Now, I wouldn't have gone if I knew how much trouble I would get in. Ah, I was okay at first. She was yelling at me, and I responded as calmly as I could.

But see, I wasn't the only one who didn't finish their homework. There were a bunch of people.

The thing that bothered me was what happened after she yelled at me. I heard whispers.

"Lucia, are you okay?" I would hear someone say. I said, "yeah."

"She was so mean to you." I heard.

"Yeah, she was mean to her. But the teacher is like that sometimes." It's true. My teacher has her good days, and her bad days.

She was, obviously, really tough on me in comparison to others.

It was weird because I always thought she liked me. Today, it seemed the complete opposite. She was furious, and I was scared. I didn't show it, but I was scared.

And I felt weak at heart.

The next class came, and as I sat down, I noticed I was alone. I had not waited for my friends to walk with me. I was alone.

Why..? It felt like I was disconnected from the world for a bit. It was.. uncomfortable.

My friends came in later. The thing that happened in science was now old news. I didn't want anyone to care.

I didn't want anyone to care..

I didn't even want myself to care.

No one should care about this.

But I did.

I cared about how the teacher thought. I cared about my grades. I hated the cumulative system. Because of it, there are no second chances. Once you mess up in the cumulative system, it's there for the rest of the year.

Which sucks. No second chances.

Oh. And they took out term awards. There's no motivation for me this year. I'm turning into a bad student.


I don't want to be a bad student. I want to be a good student! I want my peers and younger students to look up to me. I wanted to help them by being myself. I wanted to be smart.

But I'm not smart.

If you know me in reality, please treat me like you treat others. I don't want to be treated as if I would know everything. I don't wanted to be treated highly. I don't want to be different in terms of hierarchy.

Thing is, I want respect. I want to be treated like a student, but some people at my school are unable to do such. That's why I tried extra hard. That's why my reputation is so.. up there.

And I know, by the time anyone reads this, I will have finished grade nine, and maybe even a few more grades, and this issue will dissolve into meaninglessness.

Dear teachers, parents, older relatives, anyone who has authority over me basically; please don't yell at me.

I can handle darkness. And overly silent silence. And eerie auras that lurk around sketchy places. I can handle druggies, and creeps, internet criminals. I can handle anything that applies to everyone.

Truth is, I'm fit to be a leader. I just don't have the will to support others. I mean, I want to, but I can't have others depend on me. It's too much.

My "crush" got a girlfriend. I don't know why, but I'm so happy. Over-whelmed with happiness. My friends don't like her, but they don't know her the way I do.

Madison, if you're reading this, you're awesome. So awesome. I like how I can have intelligent conversations with you. I like how I can have silly conversations with you. I'm sorry to say I don't see you as an equal in terms of physical talents, but you're much prettier than me, and nicer too. I like how I am able to teach you because of my skills, and I like how mature you are in comparison to the rest of the class. I like you.

As a friend.


And number nine, I do like you, yeah. It's not the romantic type of liking. I like you as a.. pet. I want to care for you, and look after you. I want to play with you, and have you in my company. I want to be able to please you, and all the while please myself as well. You went out with Madison? If you're as happy as I think you are, I'm so happy. Honestly, I shouldn't be this happy for you, but I am. So thanks for being happy.


Number nine? LIKEWISE.

I predicted the two would get together at the beginning of the year. Them being together fills me with confidence... IN MAH PSYCHIC ABILITY. AW YEAH! blaugh

But the joy I get from those two doesn't compensate what I'm feeling from science.

I may just be overreacting, but I'm a girl. I can't help but be sensitive. For so many years, I've closed myself off from the world. I was only part of reality again since, like what, two years ago?

So no one I know knows me.

[questions sentence structure... It's correct, but a bit confusing. Apologies! whee ]

No one knows that everything I'm feeling nowadays is completely new.

I see girls crying because their crush rejected them. I don't know what that feels like. I can't relate because my brain isn't matured in that sense. I can't comfort the girls in my class when I see them having guy problems.

This makes me sound horrible, but guys are toys. You can love them, or you can just use them.

Well, I'm a person who has a tendency to make too many attachments. Toys are beautiful things. I love toys.

I don't love boys, but I pity them enough that I can convert that pity to a temporary form of love.

Pity, pity.

I pity whatever and whoever I can't relate to. Why? Because I solve my own problems. If someone has the same or similar problem, I can solve theirs. If someone has a completely out-of-whack situation going on, I'm useless.

I hate being useless.

Today, in social, I almost cried. Why? Because I got yelled at. My mind is so fragile when it comes to yelling. Even if you're my age, or even younger, I'll be affected by your yelling.

Please don't yell at me. I can't stress enough how much I can't handle it.

Some people learn their lessons when they're being yelled at. Me? I learn from my mistakes. No need to point it out by yelling. When you yell at me, I won't learn from my mistakes. I'll learn that I'm incompetent. That I'm worthless. No one wants me. No one likes me.

It hurts, you know? crying It hurts a lot.

In social class, I felt a new emotion. It was overwhelming.

It felt like someone wrapped their boiling hands around my heart, and slowly started squeezing it.

I would think, and this feeling would come.

I should have drank a bit of coffee and did my homework. *heart squeeze*

Who needs sleep? I'm so sleepy now, I probably didn't rest enough. It's okay though. I'll sleep over the weekends. I should have stayed up to do my homework. *heart squeeze*

I should have done my science instead of going to the Open House. *heart squeeze*

But then I got into really complex thinking.

Maybe if I was a better student, I wouldn't be yelled at? Maybe the teacher hates me. Maybe she was acting all these years. Maybe she doesn't like me the way I think she does. Maybe she really does hate me. She hates me. She hates me. I'm not enough for her. Then again, I'm not enough for anyone.

Everyday, I go through phases. In the morning, I wake up, I cherish that day as a new day, and go to school. One person pisses me off, and I'll ignore it. I make friends and strengthen bonds. I try. Too often, something nostalgic happens, and I go into a state of self-degradation. I look down upon myself, my life, my purpose, everything about me.

I don't know if I've had any traumatic experiences. I know I cry randomly when I'm alone and I think too much.

I cry at night. A lot. I cry at all those people I couldn't meet, like my grandparents.

I don't know much about my grandmother on my mom's side. My grandfather on my mom's side, though.. I've heard stories.

I've met him once, but I was too young to know anything. He held me as a baby, and I didn't know anything. He talked to me, and he treated me like his own child. Or so I heard.

When he died, I couldn't help but regret not being able to meet him again. I don't know what he looks like, or sounds like, or how he acts, or anything. He's just.. a ghost, really.

And I cry at the dead animals. I cry at my inability to save them. I cry because I know I could have saved them. I cry.

I cry because a grade went below 80%.

I cry because my mom yelled at me.

...because my brother(s) yelled at me.

...because my sister neglects me too often.

..because my dad expects too much.

I cry. And here, I admit it. At school, I don't cry. I can't cry.

It hurts so much.

See, I know how it's like for guys. For every tear a girl cries, she lets out a bit of her feelings. She lets free her sorrow and frustration. Once she's done crying, and all the tears are gone, she'll feel better. And she'll keep crying until all the sadness has been released.

Guys can't cry. They have all these feeling locked up. They might not feel sad right away, but they do feel sad. And it's because they still feel sad that I can relate.

I'm sad.

I've run away from a miserable childhood. Thing is, I don't remember what made me sad. Every time I get close to be free from my burden, it pulls me back. I want to be happy, but something inside me isn't letting that happen. And these tears? No one sees them. I can't even look into the mirror without pointing out my flaws.

So what, I'm sad.

And today, I've come to the conclusion that I broke. I'm broken. I thought that the sadness was a sign that I was breaking, but no. I'm already broken.

And that makes me sad. It tells me that happiness isn't within my reach. I'll never be completely free from my own depression. And no one knows. No one can help because no one knows.

Today, in social, holding back my tears, my substitute teacher tells me, "You know, I think you'll be successful when you grow up. Every time I look at you, you're working hard." I said my thanks, but somehow, it felt like I was lying to myself.

I'm not working hard. I'm doodling. Why? Because it keeps me from mental breakdowns. I've never had a mental breakdown in class, but something tells me it's so possible. Too possible. I stopped doodling for a few minutes today, and my eyes got watery, so I doodled.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

To my science teacher, thanks. Today, you made me sad, but you made me realize what I was so confused about for so long.

I was trying to save my dying happiness, but it's already dead. You can only save something when it's dying, not when it's dead. As for me? I'm dead.

If someone, anyone could help me, I'd appreciate it so much.

Today, more than anything, I wanted a hug.
I haven't hugged anyone since grade six. I've forgotten how to hug, but I've seen it several times. I want to remember that warmth and comfort. I want..

Thanks for reading. rolleyes I wonder if anyone actually reads my journal.
Goodnights, btw, if it's night where you are.