lemonade in plastic cupsI lie on the floor, legs pressed up to the wall, while my best friends go to concerts and shopping malls and other places with fluorescent lightbulbs.I drink my communion wine, I imagine how a heart attack feels, and I try my very best to keep from laughing.Some days I go to sleep and I am scared of what I'm doing to myself.Some days I cannot even speak (or walk or write or even think right.)Some days I wonder why why whyMy life turned out like this.