I've always been a realist, never was much of a dreamer. Even as a kid I've always held onto my pragmatic view of the world. Honestly, the only thing special about me is my bad luck.

Every time I play a card game I'm dealt a horrible hand, whenever I want to go outside it starts raining, nothing ever goes my way. People can call me a pessimist, but this is just another form of realism. For me it doesn't matter whether the glass is half full or half empty I'm just going to spill it anyways.

So it was only realistic that I would end up going to a school in which I would be unable to make any friends. It's not my fault, I just happened to be unlucky enough to always end up in awkward situations, to always end up being the kid singled out. It's only natural that without any friends I would start being bullied. Sometimes I'd lie in bed wishing they would die, but it's not like I believed that would happen.

Of course being bullied every day affected my grades. They started plummeting down, even though I studied more and more every day. I always enter every test believing I'll fail, despite staying up past midnight for the past week studying. I'm always right. At least I'm never disappointed.

My parents couldn't possibly be proud of such a disappointment of a son could they? They started hating me more and more every day. Eventually the stress of having a useless child and long hours became too much for my mom. It was only natural that she wouldn't want to live any more. My father didn't have anything to stick around for. He left soon after.

I knew before even applying no college would want me. Not even a community college would be willing to accept such a useless human. Of course I would end up working for minimum wage.

And my life carries on an endless loop. The world never changes. I show up for work and go through the same motions. I know I'll never achieve anything, I know I'll die alone. Eventually I began to believe I would never escape this endless loop. Every day becomes more and more like the last.

Finally I realize what I need to do. Mother knew. I believe there is only one way out, no I know that there is only one way out.

As the rope around my neck forces my final breath I wonder if life would have been different if I believed in myself, but I know that's not true, after all believing I can control the world...

That's just not realistic.