I am an ordinary kid.
I don't have talents.
I'm not artistic.
I'm not athletic.
I can't do anything.

I'm basically worthless.

She literally told me I was worth nothing and because I was living in a community, I had to compromise and stop being so selfish. "What, do you think you're very important?"

This is my life. I'm seeing everything from my perspective. So yes, I am very important in my life. Everything revolves around me because this is my life. I am the main character of my story and do you NOT UNDERSTAND THAT IT'S SO TIRING TO HAVE TO THINK FOR EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU?

I've never liked myself. I hate the fact that I don't have the patience to go through with anything when I was young. I hate the fact I can't properly rally in a badminton match, that I can't write proper essays, that I simply don't ask the right questions. And as much of a hypocrite I sound like when I say this, I hate how ugly I am. I hate the way my legs are shaped, that my whole body was designed for bruises and cuts because I'm just too clumsy.

I was always in my sister's shadow. I followed her. I looked up to her. I was so proud of how she was so smart. I never thought I was anything. What I could do, everyone could do. What I couldn't do, everyone could do. I can't do anything. So I worked hard to get good results so I wouldn't simply be too ordinary.

So when I got into WSC, I was so proud of myself. I was a little relieved that there was another avenue for me. I was just-- so-- happy because at least I had some worth. At least I could do something my sister never did. I thought I was worth something. And now I'm having an emotional and mental breakdown because it is pretty pressurizing. I'm so tired, but I'm happy because every time I finish part of my dossier, I feel accomplished. I enjoy WSC and all the things I'm learning.

And I tried on the yellow blazer. It was awkward and all formal-looking and I just.

I felt bashful and almost wrong-- because I don't deserve all this. But something that had been repeated to me by my parents, "you got in because they chose you" came to my mind and I was sure I would try my best.

My parents tell me to take a nap and rest. I do that.
And I am aggressively woken up by her.

I just-- I've been unwittingly sarcastic. Okay, so that's my sense of humor. Would you rather I make stupid and unconvincing promises that I'd break? I don't like doing that.

And then I protect my granola bars, saying they're my support bars.
And she explodes.

"I am sick of your attitude, you know? You go around thinking it's a big deal you got into WSC and that the world revolves around that. What, you think you're so important? And you have to stop being so selfish."

A few points:

1. it is my life, and hence my world does revolve around me.
2. It is a big deal, to me, that I got into WSC
3. I think I am important, because if I don't think that way, I wouldn't be here right now.
4. I'm only selfish with my food.
5. You take my staplers and my stationery every single day. I don't even bother to get it back until I need it.

And now, I can't even cry because it'll worry my parents and that is a very selfish behaviour. I know my brother's demise has made my mom weaker, but have they ever thought about me? It's selfish, yes, but everyone is selfish. It's exhausting to have to think for everyone. So I smile my way through dinner and my mom tells me to stop doing that because it's worrying her. What the hell do you want me to do? You don't want me to sleep late, but you tell me to take naps. You don't want me to cry, but you tell me to stop acting like I'm alright. You tell me to confide in you, but you just tell me to get over the lines that destroyed me.

I know I'm worthless.

I just.

I hate feeling like this and worrying everyone.

I hate being like this. And you know what, there are times I really want to die but I know it's not worth it because I haven't even grown up and this is immature and escapism.

I want to hate you but I can't because I know that I'll never be as good as you.

I hate myself so much.

"Love is a much more vicious motivator"

tiny piece of fiction inspired by the quote "Love is a much more vicious motivator"--BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes
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"I'm going to kill you."

The dramatic tensions of staged play is killing her, even if the silences are too lengthy and quiet. There's a mix of macabre and irony within her words-- she doesn't know how she actually manages that, but the lines were written for her.

They were meant for her.

Somehow, though, she figures that little improvisations here and there wouldn't hurt. But the scriptwriter insists that this is the way the world works. This is the way the plot unfolds. This is the way her story starts, continues, falls, ends.

"I'm going- I'm going to kill you."

She falters with an accented anxiety, experimenting with the look of a bereaved child. While she can paint the crime scene of a haste murder, the culprit remains a mere patch of words. There is no life in the kill. Her culprit's a mere figurine or symbol of utter vacancies within the flawed manual of constructive set-up kills.

"I'm gonna kill you."

Dark comedy. A tinge of bitterness that'll induce laughter from the audience, all right. She can see through the psychological uncertainties of this culprit.

"I'm going to kill you."

Yes.

This is the one; she's taken her pick.

"I'm going to tear you down with sweet favours and whisper little nothings into your ears, promising you everything. You're gonna believe me. I'm gonna leave you longing for more, all defenses down. I'm going to lick you up, every last shred of dignity. I'm gonna leave you begging for more. I'm gonna leave you boiling in lust."

Her plan is simple, and so intricately complex at the same time.

"And then I'm going to leave you alone."

Love. Definitely a much more motivating factor.