Author's Message

Sometimes we think that others don’t know what we’re going through. Yet they actually do. That’s our problem with this world. We live through life expecting things to work out like we want it to. But when we set our expectations too high, it never works out right. We fall at the bottom of the barrel.

If anyone is willing to read this story, please be careful.

This story has graphic suicide and some very mature chapters.

In order to understand the story and why I wrote this, there are some important factors that need to be addressed - and it has to do with my personal life. I have never opened up about my past before, especially to my family, so this might cause some triggers if it gets out to the wrong people. Please have it be known that the plotline may be fictionalized, but this story can represent real life. It is real life. When I was growing up, I would be constantly treated as a social outcast, so my only escape was music class. I am a musician, dancer, actor, and now, a writer.  I’ve been dancing since I was three, and have been playing piano since the age of seven, and French horn since I was 12. 

Okay, now - where to begin?

Everything first happened when I was in elementary. 

Like I said, I was a social outcast back then, and that kind of status can affect a person from day-to-day basis. On some days I would hang out at the mini apollo or throw basketballs on the court by myself. I barely had any friends, so every year I would randomly invite classmates to birthday parties so my parents never found out how poorly I was being treated. Since I’m basing this story off of my personal life, I know that names have to be changed. Back then I had two friends. Let’s call them Anita Horay and Snow Judge. Snow and I had met in grade 4 - we got along well, but eventually got into trouble and did some things that we’re not proud of and would gladly not repeat. If the real “Snow” were reading this, I’m sure she would understand. Anita on the other hand, I had known since we were 7 and from outside my school, and there were times where she would be seen as someone who was not a very good influence on me. She would prefer to do things her way, and would be a little controlling over how we did certain things at certain times. I know if the real “Anita” were reading this, she would realize I’m talking about her in particular. Anyway, elementary school wasn't that great. In fact, it all started with Kindergarten. I still have the memory to this day about it.

I have been able to classify it, but I will not state it due to differing opinions.

I should spare the details of that year, so I won’t give it away anyway, but ever since that day (or year), I’ve felt different from everyone else. Like I don’t belong here.

I felt that way growing up. Like I said, music class was my escape from the “outcast” role I was playing, because I know that music doesn’t judge. In that room, I felt safe, and that no one could get to me. I felt untouchable - ever since then, music was reaching out to me, telling me that I wasn’t alone. Grade 6 was a little different: I made a friend that year. Let’s call her Faith. We had not known each other prior to grade 6, but over the years we had gotten close. It was her first and last year at the school, so she didn’t really care about all the switching of schools that she had done in the past based on her father’s job. Faith and I became really good friends - yet I still maintained my social outcast role at elementary. It was my last year there, so I had finally thought that at the new school I would no longer be a social outcast. Sadly, when I got to junior high, my expectations were set way too high and way too fast that I fell at the bottom of the social status barrel - I was still a social outcast.

I just wanted that role to end. I did not want to be seen as a social outcast anymore. It got worse in grade 8. In grade 8, most of the boys were joking around about rape, and a good portion of the girls were joking around about suicide, including Faith and Anita. I knew that rape and suicide were no laughing matter. They were serious topics, and I couldn’t do anything about it. In fact, I was reminded of kindergarten that year, because it was all the boys again. I felt like I was back in that daycare, and I couldn’t escape from it all, keeping myself silent from saying anything to anyone because I didn’t know what was going on. 

But one good thing came from that year. I made another friend. For the sake of the story, I’m going to name her Tiffany Kyle. However, since I was still in the role of social outcast and I was reminded of kindergarten, I had hit rock bottom. I asked Tiffany if I could borrow something of hers, and I hid myself in the bathroom. Again, I’ll spare the details, even though there have been times where I’ve wanted to go back and make sure I went through with it. And I especially have felt that way from time to time during the pandemic of 2020/21, my dreaded graduation year. However, there were other reasons for it, and I’m getting ahead of myself. Throughout junior high, I felt like I had no escape. 

Until grade 9. Around Christmas, a good friend of mine and I kind of started dating. Let’s call him Ben Oxford, just to change the name. He is the only son of Jason and Jasmine Oxford - again, I’m changing the names. They have known my parents for a very long time. However, Ben and I were doing things we weren’t proud of, that we had no choice but to keep it secret. We didn’t have sex - but not that year - and we knew not to say anything. When we tried dating, it all started to fall apart around March of 2017 when he had gone on an international school trip. The stupid part of me kept texting him, causing him to lose “the spark” that he felt for me when we started dating back in December. We weren’t able to make it official. But my classmates had eventually found out about the two of us, (even though Ben goes to a different school), and had cyberbullied me over Instagram via the class chat, only to single me out the very next day in class. I was embarrassed. 

When Ben and I had our fall-out, we couldn’t talk to one another properly without yelling - even though we ended it on good terms - so I changed my name just to talk to him. It was at that time I kind of had a rebound from him. I’m not naming my rebound for personal reasons, and he’s a continuous trigger for me. Continuing on…

Grade 10 was the worst year of my life. 

In the previous year, I met up again with Snow at our school, and we were able to bury the hatchet from the many years before. I didn’t feel so much like a social outcast because of my friends. We didn’t really care about what the popular girls were doing, but Tiffany and I did get involved with one of the popular boys. Let’s call him James Strapple. I was in love with another person - let’s call him Alex Harp. 

Grade 10 - how do I describe it?

I’ll let the story tell itself. It scarred my life. I have been scared of James for a long time, however, until a person from my past came back. I’ve already said too much, so I don’t need to reveal anymore. Let’s just say that someone came back who I never thought that I would fall in love with.  

I have had other incidents in my life that happened that I would rather not go into. One of them is in Grade 11 when I was recovering from Grade 10 with my ex boyfriend from grade 9. That one took me a little while to recover from, especially since I do get flashbacks every once in a while. 

However, I don’t want to spoil the story. This is not based on a true story. My backstory only explains the context behind why I wrote this - none of this story is real. 

Please be careful…

This story is not for readers 17 and younger. 

The reason why I state this is because people need to understand the context of the story. This is not a disney story, despite its title. This is a mature story, so I need readers to fully understand why I am writing this. There is suicide. 

Let me be upfront and clear: I am not glorifying suicide. I am addressing it by showing what happens if we don’t open up about mental health or other factors that could affect people to take their lives. I hope that those who are dealing with mental health, specifically depression, and are thinking about taking their own lives, put this book down. This is not for you to read. Find someone to talk to. People will understand. However, those who aren’t dealing with depression or suicide, please proceed with caution. 

Content warning:

There is swearing, graphic suicide, suicide, rape, and sex in this story.