This book (or well journal per say) is different from most you'd notice and thats because im only writing this out to the world to tell my story to strangers instead of people i may know. Theres always been this urge to tell someone close to me about every little thing and i used to think i should tell someone i know about this stuff because it'd be sad to not be known while alive or dead. Little me would have told anyone about these things...and well i still am telling just about anyone here but you know the feeling where you'd want atleast someone to know the real you instead of assumptions and rumors right? But everytime i try telling someone close about these things all they do is get further away. For those of you who are curious, im 16 and i wont include my real name or the names of people in real life included in this story. And yes, All or most of this is reality. Reality.