Sunday. The kitchen smells like flour. The only day of the week my mother cooks. ever since dads passing.
Monday. School is rough. I get picked on. Bullied.
Tuesday. Spending the day in guidance. All day Being questioned on my morales. Everything I believe in thrown on the floor, like trash.
Wednesday. I stay home. Drink the pain away.
Thursday. Booze and mommy's Zanax. I should feel great.
Friday. It never comes.
Saturday. They play the song. The song I left. To play for me after my death.
Sunday. A new week dawns. And I am gone.