I'm alone. All alone. I have no family. No friends. No nothing. All I have is my books. They are my life. I can relate to the stories inside the books in many ways, and I love knowing, even if it's just a fictional character, that that person as gone through the pain in which I have also gone through. Sometimes, the stories are nothing like me at all, but I still enjoy reading them, hoping that someday, my life would be like that. Books make me happy, angry, thrilled and they sometimes even make me cry. Books are my everything, and I won't give them up even if my life depended on it.
Every day I spend my time reading a new book, but unfortunately, now, I have to return to the dreaded school full of bitches, bastards and sluts who don't appreciate the existence of my beloved books. It's a living hellhole.
I'm thankful to my books for many reasons. One of main reasons is I get good grades, and I don't have to worry if I daydream during class, because usually, I would already know everything about what they are teaching me. My favourite lesson is my free periods, of course, because I can go where ever I want and do whatever I want. But I think it's already pretty obvious where I go and what I do. I clearly go to the library where there is literally nobody around. There isn't even a teacher to look after the place. It's the only place in school where I could have peace and quiet.
I would just stop going to school if I wanted, but it's against the law not to go without a proper explanation, so I force myself to put up with it until I graduate. And to make matters work, it's a 45-minute walk to my school, since my house is practically in the next town over. Like I said before, I have no family, so no one can drive me to school and the buses pay too much, so my only choice is to walk.
I bet you guys are wondering why I have no family, am I right? Well, my mother died in a car accident when I was five, while she was pregnant with my younger brother. So, I would have been the eldest sibling, if he hadn't died. As for my father, he disappeared before I was even born, so I don't know where he is, what he's doing or even if he's still alive or not. I don't even know what he looks like, my mother refused to show me any pictures. And the rest of my family? They all died in different ways, like old age, cancer, murder or even suicide. As time went by, and another family member died, I grew more used to it, and soon enough, I was labelled as "heartless" for not crying in later funerals. When I soon became the only family member left, the government asked me whether I wanted to move to a caring home and be loved by a pair of strangers, or live by myself in an apartment, which is paid by the government themselves. I obviously chose to live by myself. I didn't want to go through any more pain or pity. I just wanted to be by myself.
And that's how I became alone.