As a little kid I didn’t mind getting beat up every day. After a while, I believed it was normal to be hurt so much. When I grew up I fought back, though I never really won I still felt like a winner. I felt strong, like a real winner was the one to fight back like a champ. In the end, we all fall down. It never really mattered to my family if I was hurting, because I never really let anyone in. I never let anyone see my true feelings. Because I’m fine on the out side no one realized that I was hurting inside. No one cared if I was alone, no one cared when I thought about suicide, and no one knew that I slit my wrists when I was alone. Then again maybe they did know. Maybe they knew that somewhere inside me was a girl crying out to be saved. For a girl like me there was no one there to care if she lived or died. I was invisible. I have always been the outcast,no one has ever wanted me. Yes, people try to be my friend, but they just feel bad for a lonely girl. They don’t really care about who she really is. They pretend to like her just to stab her in the back. She hides behind a fake smile and fake life just to be recognized because she hurts to much inside.