Why does my life suck so much? I'll tell you why: I've moved to a completely different continent and none of my old friends want to talk to me because of it, my new "friends" don't want to talk to me either because I'm such a weirdo, I've been bullied at every school I've been to, I'm failing school, my parents are angry with me, my cat who was my best friend was put down, I've seen friends die, I can't sleep, I keep having flashbacks, my body is doing weird things and I feel like I'm never going to get anywhere. Oh, and the guy I first fell in love with and wanted to forget is back to haunt me. I took a knife to school the other day and I got sent to see a shrink. He thinks I'm bipolar. I call bullshit. He doesn't even have any proper qualifications. He just sat there and listened to me talk for an hour before telling me his "diagnosis". Fat lot of good that'll do me. I just hate myself so much. I really don't like who I am and I can't see any way of changing that... Most of the time I just stay home and go on the internet all day instead of going to school because I can't bring myself to face people.
I found a video on YouTube of this guy attempting to break the world record for the fastest clicking. He is pretty fast... I wonder if he'll win...
Wow, this guy is weird. He has a whole channel pretty much dedicated to being annoying. He's got quite a lot of subscribers though, so I guess people like him. Why though?
Okay, I'll admit he is kind of funny. I guess I'll keep watching to see if he gets any better.
I'm starting to quote this guy at school now. People are paying more attention to me because of it... He's actually really funny so I'm not really surprised...
You know what? He's actually really good-looking too... Oh, don't be stupid, Hannah. Fucking idiot.
I don't feel too bad anymore. I mean, my body still hurts all the time, I still can't sleep and I still keep having flashbacks, but I feel a little happier. I'm actually having fun doing P.E. in summer school which is weird because I'm as lazy as Toby is (that's the annoying YouTuber's name – Toby Turner, though he calls himself "Tobuscus"). He's kind of helping me. I don't know how... There's just something about him... I don't know what I'm talking about anymore. I need to shut up.
The flashbacks are happening less now. I'm actually sleeping a little more too. I still hurt though, all the time. I feel like I'm calming down a bit. I'm even talking to the first guy I fell in love with, though I have a new boyfriend now. I joined Air Cadets in September and it's a lot of fun. I've actually made friends. Most of them really like Tobuscus too. I think my best friend at cadets is Oscar – he's from Mexico and we keep having really funny conversations that are more intelligent than the ones I have with everyone else my age. I got him to watch Tobuscus and he says he really likes his stuff. He says he's not as obsessed as I am though. I'm not obsessed. Am I...?
I guess I am a little obsessed... But he's helping me. I feel like he's actually reaching out to me through his videos and telling me to hang on. Maybe I'll meet him someday... Or maybe I'm just being silly.
I wake up and stretch my neck to look up at Toby. He smiles down at me and kisses me gently. "Morning Mr Buscus."
"Morning Mrs Buscus."
"Shall we go?"
"Yes, we shall." We get up and get dressed, putting on our matching 'Tobuscus' and 'HCM92' shirts and walking out into the hallway to open the bedroom door next to us, Toby's iPhone in hand. "Audience? Wha-? What are you doing in Minibuscus' room on his birthday?!"
"Daddy! It's my birffday?" We both laugh as the small boy jumps up on his bed and starts bouncing.
"It most certainly is, you little noodle! Shall we see what you're getting for your birthday? What's Mummybuscus got behind her?"
I pull my hands from behind my back to produce a box wrapped in fun wrapping paper and lay it on the bed. As the wrapping paper is ripped off furiously we share an excited chuckle. "I think you're old enough to have a pair of your own now, nugget."
He cries out with joy as he pulls out a small pair of his very own Tobuscus heelys. He bounces up and down on his tiny bum then throws himself at us to hug us tightly, his small arms almost strangling us before he jumps back down to try his heelys on. Dropping down from the bed, he runs out into the hall where he can try them out on the hardwood floor and we follow to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Before we can walk out the door, he whizzes past in a blur, shouting "WHEEEW!" at the top of his lungs. Toby hugs me close as we both watch our son with immense pride.
"That's our Minibuscus!"