What does it feel like to be invisible? So invisible that when you complain about it, people won't even notice. The feeling of invisibility more often than not comes as an escape, whether you just want to get out of a crowd unnoticed or stay in bed all weekend. Everything is perfect, but sometimes, you just feel like a ghost going through the wall. It's the feeling of standing in front of the class trying to talk over the chatters that drown your voice. It's the feeling of being chosen last in PE class. It's when your dearest friend finds a new best friend and assumes you're okay with it. It's like walking next to a bedazzled famous model. They focus on the other person, but never you. But you like being invisible so much that most of the time, you accept the feeling of being left out. It's okay if they don't invite you to dinner parties. It's okay that some people in the class still don't know your name. It's normal that you never get any texts and waiting for you when you go home. You convince yourself that this was your unique way of owning your life. It was your decision to fade away from the center of attention. Yet, sometimes, you feel like a spare person that people brought along to a party out of of pity. Nonetheless, what really saddens you is how invisible your feelings are to the people that are closest to you. You make myself too easy of a target to be used, be thrown away and be left out. Some people have mentioned that they didn't feel as guilty as they should when they made you suffer, because you're so forgiving about everything. Those remarks only reminded you of what your mom always said, that she always became angrier when you cried, but softened when others shed a tear. Your pain acted more like a sign of weakness than something everyone should sympathize with. All was to be dealt with alone. Thus, whenever you were sad, depressed, feeling left out or angry, you just tried to hide it more. Who will care if you showed your true emotions? Wouldn't everyone perceive it as being overreacting or possessive? In the end, you blame yourself. You knew it was you who made yourself become that invisible person. No one else should be at fault. If only you had someone who dealt with pain the same way you did, you might feel a little better. You wonder if someone's standing in the same blood rain as you too, letting the bullets sear through their hearts just as you do. Deep inside, you know the chances of discovering that 'someone' is impossible. Like you, they've blended their shadows with the darkness. The bleeding is internal. Nobody will be willing to admit that they hurt you. No one at all. Yet, you still come crawling back to them, because you love them so much and you feel like being the better person. You feel like not talking about what others have done to you because you've promised to be this humble piece of rock that just exists for everyone to step on. But no matter how many times people kick and throw you away, you'll always have that hard external cover to prevent yourself from looking scarred and injured. People look at your rigidness and keep on throwing you elsewhere. If they knew how much hatred you've carried around, they wouldn't dare bury you in dust again. But you can handle it a little longer, don't you think?

Isolation: a concept that slowly threaded itself into my daily routine. Safety was its purpose. Sanity was its sacrifice. Especially during the pandemic. Upon its arrival, the thought of not having to awkwardly interact with people seemed like a blessing wrapped in abundant relief. How could I protest? I always dreaded walking through the severed claws of my high school's doors. I despised the aching of my slouching back as I sat in a plastic chair, listening to the teacher's gibberish that I had no passion in pursing. Isolation seemed like a paradise, and for a moment it was almost heavenly. But time changed, and I remained the same. The pleasure of not hearing the burdening shrieks of my alarm was immense. The stress-free mindset that was fastened upon my skull rewired my toxic sleeping patterns. Everything was so simple. Everything was so easy. It became a habit of mine...a habit I grew bored with. The hours of relaxation contorted into days of laziness and procrastination. I felt as though I was just existing in the blank void of my lounge room. When the quarantining of 2020 was imprinted, that was my excuse. I didn't feel like talking to anyone? Isolation was my excuse. I didn't have a job? Isolation was my excuse. Even after high school had ended and I was on the verge of entering the excitement of University life, isolation had plagued my serenity. I was so used to the lack of interaction and the decease of productivity that I felt my life was now meaningless. "What am I supposed to do with my time now? These video games are getting a bit boring. Walking around in circles for ten hours everyday is growing tedious." The rotten cherry on top of this irksome cake of loneliness was the passing of my brother. And this is where my sanity decided to take a detour. My soul had splintered like a broken branch. My loneliness upgraded its unholy form into a satanic beast of grief and emptiness. "Now what do I do? Is there a point to this still?" I felt as though I had lost everything that was cradled in the palm of my hand. And to further decorate this traumatic cake, I had also lost the intimate connection to the one I tried to despise but grew to admire. I pushed him away. I pushed everyone away. Because of isolation, right? Because of their safety, right? Or was it my safety? Several months have passed and I still struggle with the finding of my purpose and productive energy. I still feel compelled to push my loved ones away. I still feel drawn to my heated rage and harm that I inflict upon my internal fragments. Everyday feels tiresome and aggressive with the understanding of not understanding. But this is a learning tool for me. The world is subjective. The world is neither good nor bad. The world is neither polluted nor healthy. The world is neither surviving nor thriving. The world is just the world. Pain is but a fleeting ship that may take its time to pass. But it does pass eventually. And if it doesn't, I'm sure it will sink with the other traumas I have confronted before. The moral of this dreary experience is that this is life. It is your life. It is your world. You are the main character. These setbacks, these shortcomings, just make the plot more exciting. True purpose does not lie in the success of a business, a degree, or even anything remotely tangible. Purpose lies within you. It is up to you to determine your purpose. It is up to you to change. And I am still learning this...

Dear the worst day of my life, To begin, I remember you like it was yesterday but the replay I do everyday feels like it's today. Do you remember the day I lost all hope, the day that life stopped mattering maybe the day that my life fell apart and broke me into five million pieces? No I didn't think so but I remember you, I most all remember the feeling like I was dying that I was drowning and sea salt was pouring in my lungs and that my chest was being pounded on with a hammer. I most of all remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. I think the worst part was knowing that everything was not going to be okay, that my life was going to change for the worst and nothing was going to get better no matter what! To start off, I got up and I was in a small room with my baby brother who was 10 at the time I was only 13, a newborn teenager not ready or known to this horrible news I will soon find out. I got ready for school like any other day in a group home. I left for school and went to each class like nothing. After school I got “home” and put out a small notebook to begin to write a Christmas list of people I need to give present to I wrote down my dad, mom, brother, one staff at the group home, my very best friend, my friend from school, my aunts and uncles, and cousins. Then after I wrote down the name and was about to start to see what they wanted for Christmas. One of the staff came and told me my “Favorite” aunt is coming to pick up me and my brother. I was so excited I haven't seen her for a little less than a month since I went to group home. But it was Thursday, to be point on it was December 5th 2019. I waited and waited and then the doorbell rang. I just got to my feet and walked to the door and there they were. I must have looked surprised. I wouldn't have guessed it wasn't just my aunt but also her husband who I'm not fond over, her daughter who is like an aunt to me for many reasons but most of all she is like 36 years old, and my dad. I didn't think anything of it. Except the fact of why Jerri was still in her work nurses scrubs for working at a daycare. But I didn't say anything about it. I asked if my aunts wanted to see my room. Jojo didn't want to see just was going to sign the paper to take me for the night. I walked auntie Jerri to my room and she put something under my pillow and told me I could look when I got back. I just thought it was money to be honest. Dad was crying in the car but I thought it was because he hadn't seen me and brother since they decided to take us til my mom could get better and my dad got some anger management class or maybe some therapy. But anyways we arrived at the park. This part is the moment I will replay and replay until I'm blue in the face. I asked if they would like to walk the trail but they told us we need to sit down and talk. I was confused when I asked questions I've never wanted to ask and never want to hear the answer that I got. “Was mom okay?” and Jerri answered with a shake of head no i sat at the bench. They told me something I didn't want to hear, something that I want to close my ears and start to sing a lullaby. They told me that my mom had died early this morning but I didn't feel tears so I just let myself scream like someone was trying to murder me and I was calling for help. I started to scream then the pain started, the sea salt poured into my chest, the hammer hitting my chest so hard I thought that every bone in my body was breaking. Was it supposed to physically hurt? It was just sadness nobody was hitting me nobody was hurting just the feeling that I just lost my mom. My best friend, my only likable parent, the only one I knew that I couldn't live without, died I would never see alive again. I never felt lost before till today I never felt so much pain before. I will ask myself this until I decide to become a mother and have a neutral labor. “Is losing a parent the most hurtful and painful thing to ever encounter?” It didn't make sense how she could have died… she was purposely going home from the hospital this morning. My life didn't make sense anymore. I was broken. I lost a part of me that I couldn't get back. I had to call the person that I knew I needed the most right now. I called my best friend and said something I never want to tell her not now or later. “ my mom died” After that day things started going fast I didn't let myself feel how could I? I knew if I started crying I wouldn't stop. Therefore me and my brother stayed in a group home and my dad became homeless with his new girlfriend. Life is not the same and never will be when I decide to have kids then won't have a grandma, my mom will never cry at my wedding, she'll never see me in high school, or see what college I go to. I will never have my mom back. My life as I know it will hurt and be painful forever, every time I feel that hole in my heart.

The air around her smelled of ink, paper, and pencil lead. She scribbled her thoughts down but not even then could she even begin to fully understand. The people around her understood so why didn't she. It was like they had created a contract that contained an unsaid rule that everyone around her must never say anything and allow her to destroy the light inside on her own so they wouldn't leave evidence of their crime against her. It didn't take long for the light to almost completely diminish itself entirely. So while the world around her was filled with color, she herself slowly became as gray as the sky before a storm. Though sound was rare in her color drained mind, it still managed to be made by sinking into her invisible world of song. They never heard it fore it was there somewhere deep in her soul, somewhere where the light hadn't yet been extinguished. That little light was the only thing left in her. The only thing that kept her from completely disappearing. The light kept her from giving up on herself and gave her the slightest bit of hope that one day things would get better. Two years later, you can now find that same girl with a smile on her face and a friend or two by her side. It took some time but that little light soon became a flame that regained its strength creating a fire. A fire that she hopes to share with those who have let their light burn too low so they too can become the star they are meant to be. You don't have to be lonely like that little girl was. You don't have to be lonely like I was.

From the years 2018-2019, adults might think we kids are being spoiled by things such as rap music, gangsters, drugs, and people who influence bad things. Now, this is purposely to view the case of the children and teens getting affected by other bad choices are age group do. When parents see a group of kids getting arrest or killed for an act or deed they had or was involved in, That type of news leaves an effect on not parents but their children. Parents always say, “I'm doing it to protect you,” and there is no fault in that, but when parents take it to the point where their teen can't be a teen, it's not protection it is IMPRISONMENT. The last thing a teen wanted to feel is like their being held in captivity by their blood. As soon as they think that way, they get mad, angry, sad, lonely, and like they did something wrong. That's the worst feeling a teen can feel. When a teen always wants to go out to have fun with his/her friends but can't because their parents feel as if they still need protection. The best thing parents can do is trust and let their children protect themselves for once. Then watch them grow into becoming strong men or women in the future. So with parents who like to keep their child safe, I assure you their always going to be protected. You just got to let them find it by themselves. Don't make your child angry by trying to do what's best for them or because you're scared. Try an leave space for the teens and kids that they are. IMPRISONMENT will get a teen into trouble instead of out of it. IN WHICH THEN THE CAPTIVITY OF A YOUNG SOUL IS LOST.