What made me this way? What made me like this? Them, maybe.
Today is my eighteenth birthday. So far, all I've learned is that nothing changes and that everything still sucks and that being an adult, technically an adult, doesn't make me feel any more powerful. All I have is a party full of strangers and a shortbread cookie shaped as a heart. Now not everyone is a stranger -my mother and father are upstairs monitoring by sound -but I go to school with these people.
Or I went to school with them. Really it's only been a day since graduation and not everyone has wiped their brains clear of these horrible memories, so we still remember each other.
I've been sitting in the corner for an hour. People gave up trying to include me after twenty minutes, and let me be.