I walk up in the middle of an empty parking lot. A storm surrounded the car as the rain poured down. I sink back into the car seat, relaxation crossing my face. I was beside a small store, and the lights flickered inside. I was all alone in the car. And finally… I shed a tear. I wanted to be vulnerable, but it felt like I wasn’t allowed to in this generation. People were so quick to try to take control of others.

I let the tears fall as I watched cars drive by, the water on the road splashing as they went. The rain was cold on the glass, and I continued to cry. I’ve never let myself be so emotional since… forever. I put up a cold front just to be left alone when all I wanted to be was understood. I mumbled, tears pouring down my face like the raindrops, “I just want to feel cherished and not constantly torn down…” It was hard to give people anything, since they’d think I was being weak.

I got laughed at when I made a mistake and teased when I did just one thing wrong. It’s to the point where it feels wrong to be human. I didn’t care to fit in, but it was hard to be myself when so many people believed people who didn’t follow these trends were less than. The thunder shook the ground… but I felt challenged. I cried even louder, letting all the pent-up feelings of pain and frustration out. “It feels wrong to be imperfect! It’s scary to mess up!” I laughed it off to hide the pain. Nobody was there for me like I tried to be for them. I slowly wiped the tears from my face, but it didn’t stop them from falling.

That rain hit softer on my car's windshield, so I went softer. I wish I could be free from this corrupted world. It felt like a daily nightmare. I continued to cry, wiping the tears off the leather seat. “…I just want to be myself, a human. I’m imperfect, and I can’t change that!” I continued to cry as I watched the lightning. Monday through Friday, I deal with unwanted teasing from students. Teachers overlooked them because they just took this job for the money. They’d steal books from my locker and made me search for them like it was a damn egg hunt.

“I…I want to be free. Let me be free. Please…” I whispered, my voice shaking. I picked up the little pocket knife. “Goodbye to the pain I’ve experienced. Goodbye to the world. Goodbye to the careless students. I’m going to be free.”