The sky calls to us.

Hi, my name is Pathetic.

I used to have a family but they never really liked each other, so my dog died and my parents divorced and my siblings mutated and I disappeared into a tiny hole where no one could find me. They didn’t even notice I was missing.

My dog was red and sweet and not really mine, he loved my dad. But that’s fine. He squealed in pain a lot the week before we put him down, my sister cried for days. My dad did too. I pretended like it was No Big Deal and because of that my sister deemed me Never Really Loved Him, Sociopath. I cried alone in my room at night.

When my dad told us about the divorce they had already put the paperwork in and everything. He cried as he promised us he would always love us and have a place for us. Mom Didn’t Really Care and said if it made a difference she asked for the divorce. Everyone knew, mom, you don’t need to act like it’s some great confession. They all sniffled up but Chloe who was red-eyed and I who couldn’t look my dad in his eyes. She took us all outside and asked us if we have any questions but I was Shrug and Look Around Wow The Garden is So Interesting. She sighed. I left. This is a brilliant pattern between the two of us.

My Dad is Stress and Nicotine. He works and hates his life and so it’s our jobs to make him happy even if he has an unfairly short temper and we’re Only Human. He calls me Beautiful and Ungrateful Little Shit. My mom is a 25 year old stuck in a 37 year old’s body. I am fairly certain that she does not want to be a mother. She does not behave with any love towards me. Her name for me is I Just Don’t Get You, Sophie, I Really Don’t.

My mirror is my best friend. She always tells the truth which is good because Pathological Liars like Me need some truth. She says to me, Good Morning Pig, Kill Yourself. I’m lucky to have her.

I’m Alone. Which is okay because I’m not sure if I can keep up with all these names anymore! People call me Smart and Funny sometimes, but never Pretty or Nice. Sometimes they just stare. That’s fine, I’m okay with staring, except it means Mirror talks a lot more than usual and sometimes she’s really, really mean.

I talk bathes in scalding water that’s pink from razor marks. Most of them accidental. That is a good allegory for my entire life, especially how the nice smelling soap stings me and makes my eyes tear up. When I finish scrubbing myself red Mirror looks me over. She can be a little nasty. I don’t always eat because of her, and sometimes I hurt myself like a Pathetic Piece of Shit when she’s loud.

That’s okay, one day she’ll see what other people see and maybe I can be Smart and Funny with her, too.

Thursday May 31 8pm 1 note