Sometimes our choices affect our entire life, or lack thereof.

Sometimes they're just lessons we have to learn.

Mistakes we make, friends we forget, bullying we ignore. They all add up. They're all our choice.

People say they hate school. They say we're forced to go.

But we aren't. Anyone of them could stand up in the middle of Sociology or Maths and walk out. Never return again.

We choose the way we live our lives.

I choose the way I dress, who I talk to, what I eat.

I choose the scars on my arms and the tears in my eyes. I choose the strange looks, the purple hair, the outcasts over the popular ones.

I choose them because I know nothing else. My choices are limited but they are still choices.

Still my choices, always my choices.

And In the end, that's all that matters. Because some people really don't have free will. Some people can't do anything with the life they're stuck with. Caged, abused, stripped of everything that makes a human alive.

That is not who I am, not what happens to me. I choose to hurt myself. I choose to hate cabbage. I choose to be in love with another girl, a girl who is straight.

In the end, I will choose to die.