sixth form.

Despite my... issues, regarding my emotional health, I do take courses at a Sixth Form...

...Rather unsuccessfully. Y'see, I'm kind of new there. Despite living in the area for most of my life, I only started at this Sixth Form Last month... and... how to put this? I'm something of a black sheep.
Most people stay away from me. A few Bully me... in subtle ways. Fewer still are nice to me.
And then there's Chloe. Chloe Faramond. She's... different, let's say - but intelligent, funny and good-looking. That description makes me sound like I fancy her... what can I say? She's pretty much the only friend I've had since coming here though... everyone else doesn't seem to notice me much, or... look at me with this weird... thing on their face. It's like I've been marked by a serial killer and they think it'll rub off on them... but not Her. She's nice enough, anyway.

Chloe understands... it's weird. after my parents... y'know, left, let's say, people understood me less and less, but she just... gets it. I don't know, off on a tangent again.

There has been an issue though. Like I've said, people have... "bullied" me in the past. One of the girls, called Veronica is usually the ringleader... and there she was today.
"Oi, fuckface. Yeah, you, OrphanBitch"
I turned away.
"Scared of the Big Tall Man?"
I asked her what she meant.
"You used your real name on your blog, guess being loopy and losing mommy and daddy makes you see things, right? You're so stupid."
I decided not to reply. Veronica's disgusting onslaught of... hatred was met with a cold stare.
"I'm fucking talking to you. Don't look at me like that, Orphan-Bitch. I don't think your big scary Tall Man is gonna come and burn me, is he?"
I swear... just for a moment, there was something. Stood, outside the class windows of my sixth form... But when I turned to look, nothing. Maybe she was right. I'm just loopy.
"Why don't you go bum Chloe if you love her so much?"
This was one of her favorites. She's a damn homophobic shit, I tell you.
"Why don't you fuck off?" I replied. This took her by surprise.
"Watch out, the psycho can talk!" She announced with malice.
I felt that... presence again. Like something was infringing on the edge of my vision. I walked away. I later learnt that at this point, my nose began to bleed. It took about an hour to stop. I hate nosebleeds.

Tangents, again. Damnit.
I've not had any real hallucinations or delusions, so this medication Doctor Mercier prescribed me must be really good. Y'see, the Arsonist who attacked my home when I was nothing more than a child... they haven't been found. I was. I was found in the middle of a burnt out house, surrounded by my burnt possessions and family. Charred bone and flesh around me. I don't really remember it. At first, police thought the Arsonist had left me there specifically... It would make sense after all, if I was either targeted or not targeted, they'd leave me out, right?

But my original doctor at the time, Doctor Brown, suggested it was a delusion. That I had gone there, on my own. That most of what happened that night, walking imperviously through the flames, the Tall Man who stood enshrouded by them, and whatever had let me to lie surrounded by my dead family were all constructs of my mind to deal with the stress, torment and pain.

Maybe i should talk more about what happened. Dr. Mercier did say to let it all out, right? To be honest? but knowing people like Veronica read this... no. not yet. i dont think so.

It's getting late. I've typed this too long. And I swear, I saw something. just a moment ago. corner of my eye again. i clearly need sleep...

I need some way of signing these damn things off.
Peace out? No...
Seeya? Meh...
Seeya later, Shitlords? That's probably the best of them...

~Ramona Carrie Lake. June twenty-fourth, 2015, 01:02 in the morning. shit, 01:03.