When I was in the fourth grade I thought of it. When I was in the nineth grade, I wished for it. When I was in the tenth grade I dreamt of it, but now I am in the eleventh grade, and I continuously beg for it.

I am pleading with whatever God there may be; to allow me to receive my one and only true release from this never-ending misery. An escape from my growing insanity.

This is it. I refuse to continue praying for better brighter days, because it seems like The Divine will not answer those prayers for me. Now my prayers have changed. The end of my days. That's what I pray, beg, and plead for. That's what my heart, soul, and mind needs. This, maybe, God can answer for me.