Who do they think I am? Who is they? My parents. My family, the people I love, the people I hate, my peers, my friends, everyone around me who thinks they know me. Who do they see? They see a girl...a quiet girl that always sits in the back, that girl with nothing to say, but is that really who I am? No. I am on my way to be a man, to have a loving wife. I have more to say than they think I do. I have stories to tell, true ones. Of trials and pains. I could tell them all of what it's like being in so much pain, having so few people care, having so few people know. But I don't. Why? They have to show some sort of dedication in knowing me. If not, what do they care who I am? They don't. So I'm just who I look like I am to them. Why not? They don't care anyway. So few in my life have gotten past that wall. None by their own force, but by me unlocking and opening the gate. No one else has that power. So who am I? Everything ye thought I wasn't.