I am horrible....

How do I feel? Are you sure you want to know? You want to know how fake I feel. Like a smiling doll, so happy and beautiful, but empty, rotten, dead inside. That sums it up. That’s how I feel. My entire life is a joke. Nothing. Meaningless. I should not live. There is no reason for it, other than my mom wanted something to take care off. Well, congrats, you did it. For 15 years you have taken care of something. No, not “a girl”, not “her”, not “she”. It’s “a thing”, “that”, “this”… I’m not a person, I’m a doll with a painted on smile and big blue, empty eyes. I reveal no true feeling, I cry inside, but tears never show. I feel like I’m lying on the floor, falling apart, but here I stand, tall and lean. Strong, people call me. “Don’t worry, she is a strong girl, there’s nothing to worry about, what so ever.” There isn’t? Well then, please explain to me, why I’m screaming with no sound, why I’m dying with no life. I’m becoming desperate, for there is nothing I can do to gain your attention. “She is such an intelligent girl, so strong and confident, so why care, why would she ever have problems, why would she ever need someone to hold her.” Let me explain; I weigh 105 pounds, 54 kilos, and 172 centimeters tall. This gives me a bmi of 18.47, which is 0, 02 over the absolute minimum of a fifteen year old girl before she is really underweight. And I want to lose weight. Because MAYBE if I’m the walking skeleton that I feel like, the living dead girl, you will see me, ‘cause I cannot scream for help, no matter how hard I try. I want to, but I can’t. I’m supposed to be strong, you know? I’m not supposed to cry. I won’t let myself show off my vulnerability. My mom asks me: “Why won’t you hug me anymore? What have I done that makes you resent me so much?” I answer that she has done nothing and I don’t think I act like she says, but the truth is, that I’m afraid her gentle touch will cause me to break down and cry for hours without being able to tell what is wrong. That it will scare her, and make her sad. When it comes to this, I don’t care if I’m miserable, as long as others are happy.
My friends tell me: “You are so lucky, you are so tall!” I laugh. I shake my head. They don’t get how much I would give to be the one everyone hugs, and takes care of. To not be the one that can take care of herself. I have been made an adult long before I was ready by others, and I can’t take it. I want to be a kid. For god’s sake, let me fucking live my life without responsibility! I hate it when people look at me and tell me how beautiful I am with my big blue eyes, my full lips and me long, healthy red hair, tall, naturally skinny, perfect abs, like I have been working out and long lean legs. And I don’t even work for it! “You are just divine by nature!” Now, I want to vomit, because what I see is a fake monster that lives on a lie, a mistake that has thought many times about how I should have never lived, because if I can’t be perfect, hat am I doing here?