Hi, I'm Andrea and I'm a freshmen. Located in Minnesota for all 15 years of my life, My birthday is December 23rd. Blonde hair, blue eyes
I'm in 5 sports; Cross Country, Track, Dance, Volleyball, and Softball. I love photography and art. Laying out under a starry sky is my favorite hobby.
I am Single.But not quite ready to mingle.
See, there is a story behind this broken smile. Most people don't both to ask, but I've been through a lot. I wish I could just forget about it and be happy. It's harder done than sayed.
friends? I don't really have much close ones. I lost alot of them because of the people I dated. Any advice to you is not to let you're boyfriend make you lose your friends. Cause when he is gone, you will have no one.
Anyways, I have been harrassed and bullied at my old school so much I cried almost every night. Thankfully, I'm am switcded to a new school. Hopefully things get better.
Have questions? Ask(:
Going to hate on me? Leave.
Quotes by Together4ever
I'm so bottled up. About to burst. I'm
that scared little girl, clutching her teddy bear. Young eyes not
so innocent anymore. The innocence stolen away by a crule boy.
Tear stricken face, eyes wide in terror, cuts on her arms. What
made her go this far?
No one understands, waving her off like a fly. Her problems
arn't real, they say, she's not sain in any
They don't see what happen in the darkness in her room. When
she is all alone. They don't she the pain she drags behind
her, they dullness in her eyes. They don't see the way her
head is always down, never meeting eyes of others.
They don't see.
tears fall slowly down her face, washing the make up away as she
sit as her bed staring at the wall. Reaching for the scissors.
Griping it tightly in her small hand, nuckles white. She knows
it's wrong. Despite what right she opens up the scissors.
glids it smoothly across her fair skin. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
It turns red, blood fills the cuts.
Tears are falling faster. She sniffs. She wonders, why me? She
wonders what's wrong with her. Why people don't like her.
Why do people pierce her heart with sharp, painful words?
Gently, she tucks the weapon back under her pillow. She stares
are her arm. Traces her fingers along the scars, and the new
cuts. Looking up, she pulls down her sleaves, wipes her face
clean of tears, puts a smile on her face, and goes out.
She's strong. The definition of
can't you see? How can't ANYONE see? How broken that
girl is. Look at her. Don't just look at her body. Look at
her face. Look at her eyes. See past the smile, see past
that makeup. Look, come on just look. She is broken.
So why exactly? Why do you hate her? What did she do to
you to make you treat her like you do? You have no idea what she
went through. Be nice or leave, 'cause I can't expect you
to even begin to understand how she feels.
It's funny. Funny how the whole world is
burning up in flames. Funny how my life is shattered. Shattered
into a million tiny pieces. I'm trying to pick up the pieces
while life is passing by. I think I have all the pieces picked up
untill someone comes along and pushes me back down. Sometimes
while I'm laying there, I get kicked. Kicked so hard I begin
to cry. All the tears I have been holding in pour out. A non stop
Something else thats funny? when other people try to put
their problems on me. I can't take it. I offer help, because
I know what it's like to be alone. I can't be by
depressed people. And it's even harder to be around happy
people. In fact, it's hard to be around anyone. Talking is
tiering. Putting that facade of happiness. Afraid to have it
falter. Hoping no one will see that sadness driping off of me.
But at the same time hoping they do.
It's hilarious. You know, Being alone. Feeling isolated.
Feeling like you can't do anything right. Feeling useless,
unloved, broken. I don't know what happiness feels like
anymore. Occasionaly, there is that moment. That moment when the
smile's real. When the laugh is joyful. But for me, the
frowns over rule the smiles, and the tears over rule the
My life is the huge joke. I don't get it. Nobody gets
it. They ask, maybe they actually care. But I will
always say I'm fine. It's much easier saying that
I'm depressed. That I'm broken, alls I want to do is
cut, to die. I wish everyday it would just end...It never does. I
want to scream. Yell. Shout as loud as I can. Help, just
help me. Stay with me. Be there for me. Like me. Accept me.
Understand. Just make me feel like
someone understands. Fall to the ground in tears. Weep
all the sadness out. Maybe, just maybe someone will hear me. Help
me. Instead I sit here. Drowned in my own sorrow.
Want to know what else is
It's not really funny at all.