Something must have gone wrong the day I was born. There's a bitterness inside me, something sour that everyone, without exception, seems to sense. I've carried this power of being unlovable since I was young—like an apple rotting from the core, deceiving anyone who only sees the skin. All the bad things, everything that could go wrong, it's all within me. I wonder how much longer it’ll be before the people I love get tired of the stench.
