My name is Jevy and I am thirteen years old. I know what you're thinking, about my name, and I think the same thing. Jevessie Caroll, that's me, and what on Earth were my parents thinking? Least my surnames normal, I guess.
For seven years I've been struggling with addiction. My poison; crystal meth or cocaine, sometimes ecstasy when I can acquire it. It's my parents who got me hooked in the first place, so I could be a better student or something, I'm not really sure. I can't remember all that well.
I'm not the smart one, I can't do sports, heck, I can barely even read! No, my twin sister Kelsie is the favorite child, and I'm just the stupid wretch inflicted upon my family's 'good name', or so I'm told anyways.
I'm told that by everyone, I think. My family, Kelsie, Kelsie's friends, even my Social Studies teacher! Well I'm sorry for things that aren't my fault!
Mom, Dad, I'm sorry I failed sixth grade math because I was incapable of understanding what was going on, sorry my heart and spinal cord disorders stop me from playing sports and my eyes from letting my read. I'm sorry I'm still too damn stupid for you to want to come and visit me. And I'm sorry I couldn't be a doctor like you wanted me to be. I'm so sorry I couldn't, can't, live up to your expectations and that I can't jump over the bar my sister set too high.
You know what I'm not sorry for though? I'm not sorry I was taken away from your abuse and your hate. I'm hated here too but here I met Ellie and Evan and Mary, and they understand, love me more that you ever did that's for sure. I might even like Evan.
I don't want to leave. I'm more loved here that I ever was, and If my friends can't come then I don't want to go.
I'm not sad, no. I feel a bit dumb, 'cuz I'm talkin' to ya in my head n' all, but I think I'm better, in my head. I'm not hated in my head. Not like I am in my weak body. I'm more loved in my head that I am at home with you, even in this concrete and iron village I've come to care so dearly for.
Feel free to think I'm crazy. Hell, even I thin k I'm insane. I look in a mirror and see a hopeless black tangle, amber eyes set in red, a pale face I used to recognize, with a small nose, almond shaped eyes and full lips. I don't know that face anymore. I only saw the scars. You only see the scars too, don't you?
I've been here a year, you know, trying to get better so maybe you'll love me like you love Kelsie. Was it her looks, you always wanted her to be a model didn't you. Was she really so much prettier that I?
We had the same hopeless tanle of long black hair, the same nose, the same face. Sure she was taller than me and her eyes are green, not red like mine were, but she's... she's... No, no you love me. Mamma, Daddy, you love me, right? No, no you love her. You only love her. Why did you cherish Kelsie so much? It's... it was my autism, wasn't it? Or my damaged heart or my eyes?
I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I tried to live up to your goals and not mine. I wanted to be a designer or sorts, a construction worker, maybe even a writer! But I can write from here can't I? No, no what am I saying? What am I saying? I want you to love me, I want to be a doctor, really I do! Please believe me please!
I'm sorry, I'm sorry! No, no I'm not.
I'm not sorry, Mom, Daddy, that Kelsie was dead. I'm not sorry that I'm the one who killed her.
735 words, not including these. This is my first story on this site, and I would love to hear you feed back :) -Xiennaphine R.