I fail to acknowledge the fact that things, everything you do, gets titled. You make an acute mistake and people drag you by your limbs on a rode for miles, taunting you. The limbs, in my perspective are your vocal cords. You, in no way, are given a chance to speak out. They don’t listen, why would they? You keep crying out for help, to let it go, to finally release you! But you can’t scream, they won’t listen. They cannot hear you. Shh. They’re arrogant thoughts are bouncing around, they cannot focus what action are occurring. You cannot focus. Don’t you understand, their thoughts are clearly more important than yours! At least...that’s what they perceive. Seeing is believing, I told you to not make it obvious.
They dragged me down this long infatuated path of assumptions, trying to calm me down by seranting me. Their discordant tunes to revival of my past often suffocate my ears. May I remind you they bring up my horrible, mortifying, past. Everyday. The words, they replay over-and-over again, there is no escaping, I am dormant. Unable to move. The most I am able to do is cover my ears, but then, I end up stuck with myself. My thoughts. I cannot control the thoughts that brim into my head without even producing what may become. Ask me what it’s like to be trapped. Do you feel stuck? You already know how I feel, use your instincts, you know me better than anyone else. I am you.
Anyways, as time progresses, the compulsion stage took a full fledged fire-start. This was the stage I began to notice bystanders that were watching me slowly trug upon the path, they’re noisy ears stretching to get a jist of what the influence was saying to me. I clearly remember the first victim that gave in. But she stood in the shadows, did not express her hatred to my face. She was the Ventriloquist. She knew everything, she had the proper knowledge to end me. Look, I told you not to tell her. She spoke for them, she spoon fed them everything they would take. She made me regret everything. My anger brims at the thought of her, I hate her. And, to make it worse, soon after the puppets on strings conveyed her acts, more and more of the bystanders liked what they saw. In fact, they like it so much, they took matters into their own hands. It was a raging chorus of boys and girls harmonizing their irrelevant thoughts upon me, kind of like the Muppet. Too soon? Most likely.
Now let me tell you. Young adults do not know how to produce ideas on their own. They cannot think for themselves. It’s just crazy talk. Yes, a crazy talking. Consequently, if they did in fact do so, outcast-rejects-wallflowers, they’d simply cease to exist. Now you are not hearing me rightfully enough. My point is considerably not yet proven.  Everything they are saying becomes how people see the object. Every opinion said becomes based fact! It’s a fact that water is wet, isn't it? Or, is that a theory? Maybe, that so called fact was proven wrong. Or, maybe it’s just nonsense. I actually forget, I've heard so many different story’s about the fact. It’s easier to just believe what everyone else is saying. Maybe it’s better than disagreeing, at least you’ll have people by your side. Coincidence, maybe? Probably not.
You know this is happens everywhere in the world to innocent people, I happen to be one of the unfortunate ones. We’ll you deserve it. No one deserves a death wish on themselves. Kill them, don’t kill yourself. You will never convince me, you are a horrible, reched demon. You only reflect me. You’ll never be the one to control me. You may be in my head, but you’re physically defenseless-  As are you. I know what you think, you are nothing but a utter flammable substance, you may ignite, but water will always win against you. You can talk like a carefree individual, but you are the complete opposite. Things are not how they seem. Be quite!
Back to reality of the tragic- yet utter fortunate event taking place. Right now, as I play out a scenario, the one soon to take place, I nearly smile. It’s not a fake smile, I am actually happy. I am overwhelmed at the thought that soon, I will be sedated. Soon floating my way to everlasting peace. Carefree is what I long to be, but it will never happen. That is why this plan must take effect, now. My mind is cloudy, for I fail to think for myself sometimes. The letter. My priority is to write a short note, thank you.  I have to. I am now panicking, but it does not show.
****
I wander away from my thoughts and into reality. I slowly blink away the color crimson in my eyes. The feeling of tears lubricating my features. Frustration is creeping onto me, I need to push away my worries. I let my head fall back onto the wall supporting my body behind me. I know for, everything is so last minute.  Rationality is heavily needed. Think. My set up is done but… what was I forgetting?  I must write a letter to my family to apologize. You must write a letter to make the bullies suffer. Yeah, I have a few moments.
Stumbling across the room, I feel myself tripping over my feet to get to the supplies I need. Nothing feels real. It is surreal. My priorities need to be ironed out. I have such little time left. Okay, think, I need, ah a piece of paper, and uh pen. Slowly, I guide myself around my room to where what I need is. All at once, my elbow jams into my wall with a big, bang! My breath hitches. Suck it up. Exhaling quickly, trying to gain the strength and courage to complete my journey. I begin to drag myself along the wall to keep balance, pins and needles shooting through my feet with every move. I just need to sit, take a break, that’s all.
When I reach my destination, my eyes narrow on attempt to focus on grabbing my supplies. Hurry up, do it already. Focus, they’re right. I shakily glide my hand across the table and pick up a writing utensil. Come on, Avery. You need to write. You need to finish. I hazily look at the clean white page, the absence of words mocks me.

Dear Reader,
    Disclaimer; this is to all of you, the ones who made us feel like an outcast.
You and I, we were all alike, but not in many ways. You see, we did not thrive on making people feel bad about themselves. But, right now, as we write this with no empathy left, we are the same. I've had to endure a living hell this past couple of months. Therefore, I hope you feel that pit of guilt in your stomach, that everlasting pity upon yourself while reading this short note. We know we've experienced ours. I know I've experienced mine. You see, what you must understand about us is that we are deeply unhappy with you. Ever since you decided to open their mouth and spread rumors that i’m an unstable physco, I have gone through way too much thought and guilt to ever recover. I’m just like you, I am no different. I’m not crazy. Believe me, she’s tried to overcome this hurt, but she cannot anymore. Leaving me dry, I don't love, loath or pity. I'm simply neutral. Thanks to you. xox
Please listen, I tried so hard to act as if nothing was happening, and blur it out. I'd do alternatives like, read poetry, books, and listen to music. Try to block them out. But, it  didn't help. I cannot escape the thoughts brimming into my head twenty-four-seven. I can't anymore-I'm sorry. I tried to be like what you wanted.
During the process of hate, we tried so hard to forget how everyone made me feel. At first, when I would hear constant murmuring about me and people staring wide eyed at me, we'd simply ignore it. I’d turn my head. What else was I supposed to do, join them? That isn't even a rhetorical question, what are you supposed to do when people "banter" you to the point where you wake up crying constantly and cannot even show your face with out being harassed? Yes, bantering. I bet all of you, every single one of you will have the same reply, "I was just joking, I didn't think she'd actually do it" kind of thing. I’m a strong girl, believe me. I took that away, she’s not. Your opinions didn't actually affect me for a while, months even. But, the constant bantering never went away. Once you hear things enough, you start believing it, and I couldn't escape it. So, eventually, you influence me completely, I realized you were right, or at least what you presumed of me, was right. There's two sides to this. Ours, and mine. Quite simple, right? And, you are always right. She did say there's two sides, right? Hers and yours. This is mine, this is how you left me. Three sides.
And, I did not make her a completely ignorant person-thing. I did not want it to end like this. I know it’s not a good idea. Yes, this is perfect. But, this isn't, it wasn't my idea, it really wasn't -it was yours. Mine too. Your opinions on what I should do with my life. I finally listened you all got your wish, which transformed into mine. I'm not ignorant, I must admit, as I write this, I feel remorse. I’m so sorry Tyler. Not for me. I’m so sorry for doing this. You were my best friend.  Do you hear that, he was my friend. I'm leaving my best friend traumatized, the only person who, I think cared for me. He does not love you. And, feel horrible. What has become of me…? Who am I. *Who are we.
Pleas-

Knock, knock. The sound startles me, I quickly jump to my feet. Glancing around the room I fail to acknowledge where the thundering sound is coming from. Knock, knock.
“Hello? Who is this” I shout into the empty dark room.
I began to pace, no one is home… no one is around, I’m alone. Knock knock.
I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes are falling out of my head at this point. “What do you want!” I question the unknown noise
My head is turning in all directions utterly confused at the situation. I am fidgeting. My feet begin to pace around the room again. Maybe it’s someone outside, yeah, that’s it. I trudge across the floor to my window to pull the curtains, the curiosity is eating me alive. I rip them open, in fact I rip them off the wall. Nothing. I laugh, a fake laugh. I’m only imagining it. No you’re not.
Knock, knock. I almost break my neck turning so quickly. It sounds like its coming from my closet? I partially agree with my thought and rush as quickly as I could. Knock, knock.
What is going on? Why am I hearing these noises again? They’re never like this.  I can barely see my surroundings. Knock, knock. My head feels heavy. Knock, knock. I cannot keep my head up it hurts too much, I let my body fall to the closest object to me, my desk. Knock, knock. I don’t know what’s going on. The noises, there getting louder. Knock knock.
I breath. The noises they aren't real Avery. I’m not crazy.
Sloppily, I force my hands to lay on the table for support to let them rest, like my head. They’re so heavy. My arms are numb.
I use all my strength to cover my ears. Knock, knock.
It’s not real Avery. Closing my eyes tightly, waiting for the moments go by.
I stay there for what felt like hours, clutching my ears. The noise stopped. No it didn't. I try to lift my head, but I can’t. I can’t move at all. My eyes feel glued shut. My body is completely shut down. But, my mind isn't. I can still hear. But the knocking went silent, replaced with a man.
“Avery!” I hear a male voice scream. You’re imagining it.
This ones real, I know it is. He sounds so familiar. Stop paying attention, let go.
“Avery!” He screams again.
I want him to help me. Never accept his help. Help… my friend.
Oh my god. Tyler, welcome.
He needs to leave. He’s going to leave. He cannot see this.
I can faintly hear the rustling of the handle. He’s too late.
I see the dim light illuminate my vision. Although my eyes aren't open wide, my eyes allow me to see only shadows. There he is. For some reason my hearing is impeccable. Not really. I can hear him running towards me. I can see Tyler’s figure get close.
“Avery, no, no, thi-” He cries.
I know he is touching me, but I can’t feel it.
“I love you.” He hates you.
“I loath you” That's what he meant.
That’s all I hear, I’m gone. I can’t hear anything. I’m nothing. Everything is black.
I’m left alone with only my thoughts. I can spend eternity completely alone.
But there’s a pestering faint beep.

Hope?