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Life, defined as one of the most glorious things on earth. If you're that type of person. But if you're one of the Unfortunate people like me. We'd rather be in Hell. Which is where I live. In Middle of Nowhere/The Middle of Hell, Washington state. Why? Why must life, which is to be so glorious, be such chaos? It's nothing really. The people around me don't notice a thing. Ahhh, which is where they are wrong. Inside I am a person who is so torn up, dirt could look together. But, who but you, the person who is reading this, possibly know that? No one here, in this simple place, knows how anguished, how deprived, how alone I feel. NO one knows of me, or if they do, it's "Sarah, the witch." or "Sarah, the outsider." Neither of these names would I have given myself. Yet through one incident, they were given to me. Please help me.