Free's POV:
"Why am I so worthless?" I asked myself. "What's wrong with me? Where did I go wrong?" I stopped when I came to my clearing, my eyes skimming over the worn-down stadium. This is my only escape from the world and a place I can call my own, somewhere I can be myself without any worries. I suddenly heard a rustling behind me, and I turned around to see me, deer friend. I smiled as it tilted its head to the side, and then copied its action. "Hey there, buddy. Do you know what's wrong with me? Why I'm so worthless?"
It nodded its head, signalling yes, and I sighed. Even the deer knows what the problem is with me. So why can't I pinpoint just one thing?
Because it's not just one thing, A voice said.
Everything is wrong with you.
You're just a naturally worthless person.
There's nothing good about you.
You're just garbage.
Your parents regret having you.
Nobody wants you around.
Everybody hates you.
You will always be a nobody.
You are nothing.
The voices in my head kept on coming up with new ways to put me down. It's not that they weren't saying anything but the truth, it just hurts to hear it. At this point, I would rather a sugar-coated lie rather than the harsh truth of reality. I dropped to my knees as the voices swirled around my head, the thoughts becoming far too much to handle. "Stop it!"
I suddenly heard footsteps and rustling leaves and bushes before Kris' voice filled my ears, "Free, what's wrong?"
I turned my head and looked at her, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "It's nothing, Kris, don't worry about it."
"Are you sure? You seem really troubled." She said, kneeling down next to me. I looked at the grass in front of me, questioning whether to tell her or not. What's the point in telling her anything? It's no new news to anyone.
"I'm sure." I murmured, suddenly feeling something on my back. A backpack? It suddenly opened, and a rock fell into it. What the hell?
"Free, what's wrong?" Kris asked, and I turned my attention back to her. She stared at me, worried. Why isn't she questioning me on the backpack? Can't she see it? Her cyan eyes surveyed me, still seemingly worried. "Are you sure you're alright? You've seemed really out of it this week, and it's even affecting your blading skills. Please tell me what's wrong; I'm worried about you."
I shook my head. "It's nothing. I'm fine, I swear. Don't worry about it."
Backpack or not, I will not give into a false sense of hope. Everyone leaves eventually; that's just the way of life. Nobody stays, and there's nothing you can do about it. That's why you never tell anyone your secrets. Because betrayal is inevitable, and people always want to be with someone who they think is better than you. When they do that, and then you become someone great, they will come crawling straight back to you, begging you to let them back into your life. But you shouldn't. Why? Because to leave you they had to betray you, and that meant exposing all of your secrets, which is why you should trust no one with anything. These voices may forever bug me, and this backpack may constantly weigh me down, but that doesn't mean I won't stay strong, because what else could I do other than give up?