Josh: How it began

I think it was last Tuesday night, I had a dream, a nightmare, of every bad thing that happened. All of the deaths in my life, all the times I was bullied, and then the next morning (Wednesday) I insisted that someone was going to die, because that's what happened last time I had a dream about people being mean/dying, people actually did die, someone that I knew, and either loved or one of my best friend's moms. It happens.
But usually those dreams arn't as graphic, and detailed, and as many bad events as I had last week. And that brought me down. It reminded me of all of the bad stuff that happened, and all of the mean stuff that was said. And that was how Josh was born, that night, when I remembered a lot of Elementary school and Middle school.
I tried to go to bed at 7:30 tonight, I just went into my room, played a CD, turned out the light, and layed down. Of course Josh was there screaming in my ear, so I was crying. Then about ten minutes later, my mom came in, telling me that she missed me, and being creative and funny, and me doing the roller coaster during annual conference. And she told me to play the ukulele. And so I did. And it did make me happier, but the reason I stopped was because my dad told me that he hated the ukulele, he didn't like how it sounded.
I actually hope that someone dies soon, someone suspific. And hopefully after tomorrow after a couple people kidnap me (you know who you are) and take me probably to the councilor, then he actually does die soon, and his name is Josh.

Walking Home

Today I had to walk home, and in Iowa, it's cold in late November, and I hate the cold. And during my walk, I was crying, because of Josh, and also because I was mad at my dad. He promissed me that if I have such a problem with walking that I could call him, and he would come and pick me up. He broke his promise.
I thought about all the things I would tell him. Tell him that he should just shut up and listen to me, when I tell him all about Josh. But when I was finally home, I just told him to shut up when he tried to tell me hi. I was mad at him.
He knows something is bothering me, he asked me if I got made fun of when I was walking home. I just mummbled no.
I don't want help with Josh, not really. I know that there are people out there that care about me, and want to help me, but I don't know why, but I just really don't want to have it. I guess it's because I don't want to make a scene, having to miss school or something, and everyone talking about me. But it's kind of confusing because I kind of want that, to let them know that rumors and words hurt, and scar people.
Yesterday my dad asked, "are you hurt emotionally or physically?" I told him emotionally. Then he said, "Well, why?" I didn't answer. He wouldn't understand. Sure, I'm pretty sure he's been depressed before. But not like this.
There's like, different kinds of depressions. The depression of money, the depression of mourning someone, the depression of overstress, and then finally, the depression of feeling down all the time, and saying hurtful things to yourself.
I know my friends tell me that I'm beautiful, but it kind of feels like they are kind of forced to say it, to make me feel better about myself. But when you have actually been called ugly, in the face, and when you overhear someone talking, it seems like it means more. They don't care about your feelings. Sometimes they don't even care to see you hurt, they just want to state a fact it seems like.
Do you know what I hate? I hate the kind of jokes that people make saying, "Ooh, if you don't have any friends, or even one friend, you are a looser" I spent most of elementry school (till the fourth grade) with one true friend. And she was in a different grade, so we were barely together, most of the time we didn't even have recess together. And then in the fourth grade she moved. And I had no friends untill the sixth grade, when I went to middle school. Sure, I might have had "friends" you know, the kind of friends that would just say hi to you outside of school, and then act like they don't even know you.

The cold...

You know about my stay-in-the-gameroom-unless-I-have-to-either-go-to-the-bathroom,-eat-or-go-to-bed plan? Today, it was a fail, because my niece's friend was over here, and of course, they HAVE TO PLAY in the gameroom, of all places, invade my space. And I couldn't get on the computer because my mom and sister get on the computer, and because I also wanted to be in the dark, where it's quiet, and I'm alone. And so then I went into the living room, but we don't have a TV in there, it's kinda pulled off to the side, but you can see the dinning room, and the front door from there. And so I turned off all of the lights, and put my blanket over my head, hiding my tears incase anyone sees me. But no one saw me, they just turned on the lights as they passed, which is another good reason to have my blanket over my head- to block out the light.
And I tried to take a nap, because I had nothing else to do. And I would rather me asleep and dream, than to be awake and think, and having Josh scream in my ear. But there was one problem- in order to be asleep, I have to be awake, for about 1/2 an hour before I can be at peace.
And so, I was almost there, Josh's screams where now whispers, and I was just about to fall asleep, untill my sister came into the room, and started playing her piano. I was now fully awake. I got up, and only then she noticed me, and said, "Ohh, where you asleep?" and I said no, because I wasn't, I was almost asleep. Anyways, she ruined it, and continued playing.
And so I went to the one place I know that was still dark and quiet, outside. Sure it was cold, and there were still noise, coming from cars, and my sister's piano bursting through the doors and windows (that piano is REALLY loud) , and a little light coming out of the windows, and the light coming from the streat light across the streat, but probably the most quietest, and darkest place in the whole house, even though it wasn't outside. I had ten minutes to be all by myself in the dark untill I eat dinner, untill I go to bed at ten thirty tonight, and so then I tried to make the most of it, and try to sleep. In the cold, dark night, and I was at peace. 

Josh: an update

I need to be doing something, 24/7, in order for him not to hurt me. I can't stop not thinking about him if I'm just sitting there....... doing nothing, or if I'm riding in a car, or if I'm doing dishes, or when I'm trying sleep. He screams.
I've been playing on the computer all day, well, since I got out of school. And I'm pretty sure someone will kick me off soon, so I'm just going to sit here and enjoy it. And then probably within the next half hour, someone is going to make me get off, and I'll just be alone, with Josh. There's nothing good on TV to watch, I'll probably watch another movie, yesterday I watched 1 and a 1/2...
I'm trying not to starve myself as much, it's just hard if the only thing you can find in the cupboards, without getting in trouble for, eating is saltine crackers.

Junk Food

Yesterday I had four cookies, and today I had four nutty bars, and an egg nog latte. I had more than that, but this is just the junk food. And all Josh says is, "fatty". I try to block him out but I can't. All I've basically been doing is sleeping day and night, taking naps, watching TV, doing whatever I can.
I lie everyday. When people at church asked me how was I, I said, "pretty good" or "okay" which is not the truth. My parents can tell I'm upset, from locking myself in the game room, where I usually spend my hours now days. I just sleep and watch TV, even if I don't feel like sleeping, I'm not tired at all, just trying to block Josh out. They also notice me acting upset, keeping my head down, keeping my hair in my face, even the usually outfit- skinny jeans and my purple sweatshirt. Every morning, for about 2 weeks, I wear that uniform. And for about a week, my mom says, "Is that what you're going to wear to school?" and I just say, "yeah".
My hunger pains are not as bad as the beginning of the week, they're less noticeable. But after I eat, especially if I eat a lot, my stomach kind of hurts, like the kind of pain that you're going to throw up. I don't know if it's because I'm upset because I did eat, I do feel like crying, which is why I havn't been wanting to do dishes after the meal, because I have to do it with my sister. She notices that I'm upset also, but she still hasn't read my blogs.
I have been thinking about asking my parents for anti-depressants, and my friend told me that vitinum D helps, but I just get nervous. I get nervous because I don't want anyone else to hear me, I don't want them to see me cry. Especially my sister, Jackie. She doesn't really notice anything that's going on in the house, the dishwasher was broken for about two weeks once, and she didn't even know untill my dad said that it was fixed. She didn't even notice that she computer was broken for about two months untill she heared that it was fixed. And I truthfully don't want her to know about Josh. She judges people a lot. Sometimes she is just like Josh. Telling me that I have no sence in style, and that I eat too much. She doensn't even feel like the family. One time she called me retarded because my other sister was mad at me for something.
I looked in the mirror today, and actually look at myself. I pulled my shirt up, and my pants down, and just really looked at myself, not just a glance like I usually do. And then I started crying, about my "love handles" about my "prego tummy" about my thighs. I couldn't stop. I was silent, but I cried.
I know, people have told me that not eating is not the best choice for loosing weight, but when I think about food, and how people spend seconds, minutes, or hours making it, and then me eating it, it feels like it's a waste, just like throwing food down the garbage. So many people have spent as least one second in their life, on this thing sitting in front of me on a plate.The making of it, the packaging of it, the transporting to the store, they put it on the shelf, someone (usually my mom) buys it, transports it to the house, store it, then cook it. It just seems too much work, just for one meal.
I don't know why I'm typing all this, I almost never talk anymore. I guess it's easier to type it than to speak it, and to hear it come out of my mouth. I cry just typing this, I don't know what's going to happen if I speak it.

Quick note

So, Anna is taking a shower, and I have to hurry after her. Anyways, so today is NerdGathering II! Yep, going to hang out with my sister and my friend, Maire!
And also, I am trying to eat more, but Josh is holding me back. Right now I'm so hungry I feel like puking. But I have no time for eating. If Josh is still around after Thanksgiving, I'm going to try to get anti-depressants. Okay, sounds like Anna is almost done, so I got to go.

Love

Yes, I have noticed that a lot of my blogs have been depressing lately. And yes, I have also noticed that I have been acting depressed. I will barely even talk, if I do respond to anything, it's just nods and shakes. I don't want to eat, and I have a friend that doesn't understand that. She probably is not reading this, but she's been paying a sandwhich for me for the past 3 days. I don't want to eat. I don't want to say it, and admit it, because I know it's bad. But I'm okay typing it. She doesn't read my blogs, and she doesn't know Josh or any of the other stuff that's been going on.
When me and another friend were talking about it at lunch, she was confused. She doesn't have a link to my blog anywhere on her computer, and I don't even think she knows I have one. But we were talking about Josh.
I think I gave him that name because it's easier to say and type Josh compared to "that voice in my head". I also think I gave him that name because I don't want to admit that I'm saying these things to myself, I'd rather say that someone else is telling them to me. I just hope that no one that would understand will hear that I gave my little voice in my head a name, they might throw me in a mental hosbital for the mentally insane.
I was wondering something today, what is the breaking point of being depressed, and suicidal. Is the breaking point just thinking about suicide; how will you end your life, when, what would you say in your suicide note, who would all show up to your funural, how do you want to be burried, or do you want to be cremated? Or is suicidal just commiting suicide.
Today in the middle of first block, I got a note to go to the cafateria at 9:45. I was worried, I don't know why, but I was. I guess I was worried that someone was worrying about me, and want to kill Josh. And so I went, and it was this group starting at my school called, "Girl's Circle" I just remembered that my coucilor advised that she will sign me up, and I would show up, to help me. It was a while ago, a little over a month. But today was the first meeting.
The people there said that Girl's Circle is going to be fun, and help us with our grades, our attendance, and our strength. I'm okay with the first two- A-B average, almost perfect attendance. But the strength I need to work on. I only knew one girl in the group, who was in my spainish class and the kind of person that cares more about their looks, than their grades. Care more about not looking stupid, than having fun. But the rest of them I never met, or saw before in my life.
Today we played a game, called human bingo. And I actually talked. I talked about my family; how many brothers and sisters I have. And I talked about Larry. I usually say nothing in most classes, and most of the time I count. Mostly all I say is here, if the teacher takes verbal attendance. I gave up asking people to work with me on projects a long time ago. Anyways human bingo is basically a game where you try to find out who you relate to. And Girls Circle is going to be an hour long, every Friday.

Josh

I try to eat, but something is holding me back. That something is the words my little voice inside of me tells me. No one can hear that tiny little voice, but me. I think I shall name him... Josh.
So Josh is just someone that says things that people have said to me in the past, over and over and over again. And sometimes he just makes things up on his own. It just matters on the day.
Lately, Josh has been really annoying, and sometimes I beileve what he tells me. He tells me that I'm fat, ugly, and worthless. He tells me not to eat, because I already look pregnant. He tells me to just go into the bathroom after I'm done eating, but I haven't done that yet. He makes me feel left out, and pushes me out of people and groups. He makes me not want to trust people, makes me think that most of them are just like him. He reminds me that I don't have many friends, and he tells me why I don't. He says I'm worthless, that I can't really do anything in my life. He makes me terrified to be around people, and yet me makes me terrified of being alone. He tells me why eat, your worthless anyways. He stabs me, and punches me in the eye. He brings me down. And when I'm alone, he screams those mean things. And my eyes start watering, just as they're doing now. I try to keep my mind off of Josh, but he just comes back. He won't leave me alone. He's just a big bully. A bully that I know, and he knows a lot more about me than I know of him. He knows my weaknesess, and my secrets, and my past. And all I know about him, is his name. And he isn't even a real person.

Majority Wins

Majority wins of how I think of myself. Majority wins of how I think I look. Majority wins on how I act. Majority wins on how much I really worth. Majority wins on what I should do to myself. Majority has won over my mind, how I think, how I think I look, how I act, how much do I think of myself, and what I should do to myself. And I don't think that majority will lose.

When the time is right....

I have a whole ton (actually, 6) of cards in plastic sleeves that say stuff, and they're all pretty much the same. "When the time is right, I'll talk about sexual orinentation. How about now?" "When the time is right, I'll talk about healthcare. How about now?" "When the time is right, I'll talk about economic justice. How about now?" "When the time is right, I'll talk about war. How about now?" "When the time is right, I'll talk about child sexual abuse. How about now?" and the last subject was blank, and so then I put in Jesus. So now that one says, "When the time is right, I'll talk about Jesus. How about now?"
Why not now? When is the right time to talk about any of these? There's really no time to tell and to have a discusion about any of these, because they all have one thing in common, they are all somehow related to depression, and violence, and just too much bad stuff vs. good. Sure, the Jesus thing is pretty dang good thing, but there are still people that don't beileve in him, and even worse, are against him. And that's exactly why we need to talk about these, because if we don't talk about these, then we would never be able to talk about these. Because if we don't do this, then they are just going to stay bad and horrible, and will never be able to be comfortable to talk about. (Even though I don't really understand the healthcare, because I'm 16, but I liked the colors :D )

Christmas Shopping

So... I'm just sitting here sucking on a grape flavored rock candy... probably not the best idea before I go to bed... but all well, I guess.
Anyways, today I went shopping with Maire and her family (I would give you a link to Maire's blogs, but I'm too lazy to go find it...) You know that feeling you get when you spent so much time with someone, that you feel like family? That's what it feels like. They all know my name, and they even know where I live... and now they're sounding like stalkers. But anyways, I got a lot of Chirstmas shopping done, I got presents for both my parents, a present for one of my friends (well, all if you count the 15 cent present I got all of them...) and... I got something for the grab bag that me and my friends are going to do... I wish I can tell you what exactly what I got... but I'm worried that their might be stalkers on here that want to know what they're getting.. (you know who you are) but anyways, it was super, and I'll probably tell you what I got all of them AFTER they get their presents.... buh bye!

Puppy Chow

Sorry I havn't been writing lately, my school computer has a stupid virus on it and people barely let me on the home computer.
So... my niece and sister (her mom) decided to make some Puppy Chow. (If you don't know what that is, google it) And so they went shopping for the stuff then my sister says, "Emily, go help Kia (my niece) make puppy chow!" ...Lately I do not want to eat anything fatning, kind of beacuse (a) my sister (the one that told me to make puppy chow) has been calling me fat and been making fun of me, and saying that I eat everything.... and (b) people have been saying I've been pregnent. And so then, just right when I was about to say, "Why make it if I don't want any" then she said, "I know you will want some!" And she wouldn't beileve me if I told her no, I didn't. So I just sat there and did nothing.

Trying

I am trying to heal, but I wonder if I will ever get the chance. I have been trying to at least dress nice, but I don’t think I am going to at school. Just wear the ordinary “sweat-shirt and jeans” uniform. The same uniform I have been wearing since Thursday, the day after I found out that people think I’m pregnant. I don’t want to think that, and since I’ve been “pregnant” for about 4 years now, I obviously look like it.

The other day, in Spanish, a girl told me that I dress nice. She first was starting to her friend across the room, talking about who dresses nice and who doesn’t. And then I walked in between them, and one of them said, “Hey, Emily, you dress nice” I think this was on Friday. I said thanks, but didn’t really mean it. I am so used to people giving me complements, then laughing the next second. But then I found out she wasn’t joking, but the friend she was talking to thought she was. She laughed and said, “Ha! No she doesn’t!” I didn’t listen into the rest of the conversation.

I remember in homeroom last year, we were playing a game. The mentors (upperclassmen “leading” the freshman into good choices… I didn’t like it) taped a word on our back, and we’re not supposed to see it. And everyone else is supposed to treat us like that. Like, there was a valley girl, which is basically a dumb blonde. And there was a drama queen. And people were doing what they were supposed to do, treat the people by what their backs said. But when I got mine, I had no idea what it was. And I didn’t want my friends to tell me, because I wanted to figure it out. But I couldn’t. It' was impossible. Whenever someone would look at my back to read the word, all they did was laugh as they walked away. And so I was guessing words like, Clown, or comedian, or you know, something funny. But then the bell rang to go to our next class, and we could see our words. I ripped mine off my back, and it said, “Beautiful”. I did not feel beautiful. I felt like it was all a big joke, that I’m the opposite of beautiful, but ugly.

I don’t ever think I can heal from bullying. I just have to try to forget about it. But I’ve been remembered about it a lot lately, and I feel like crying every time I do think about it. It hurts me. There are scars on my heart, and they will be there forever. Reminding me of my childhood/teen-hood. (If that’s a word…) I am crying right now, as I am typing this. I know people care about me, one of my friends keep sending me messages and emails about how she worries about me. But I just don’t think that enough people care about me. Not a lot of people know my story, how I’ve been bullied for 11 years, and still bullied today. How I have thought about so many things, that people would yell at me for if they find out what I’ve been thinking. Suicide, my funeral, who would show up and who wouldn’t. Don’t worry, I haven't thought about this for a few weeks, and I don’t think I will ever build up the courage to do so. I guess that’s a good thing, not have the courage to do something. What the lion from the wizard of Oz have gone to a great adventure for, Courage. I hope that I never to on that great adventure. 

It’s hard

It’s hard to stay strong. It’s hard to not cry, when you really want to. It’s hard standing up for yourself, especially if there’s things holding you back. It’s hard to think, that this might get better. It’s hard to live another day. It’s hard to be happy, and stay that way. It’s hard to live through everyday, and hope for the best. It’s hard trying to see, without your whole world going blur. It’s hard to lie and say, “I’m fine” when your really not. It’s hard to get up, and get dressed every day. It’s hard to eat. Life is hard.

Autophobia

It’s the fear of being alone, that’s what autophobia means. Being alone, walking home, P.E, all nightmares. I really don’t want to do any of those things, I almost cry in the thought of doing those things. I hate these things. And for the next three weeks, I have to walk home, alone, in the cold for two miles, but that’s not the worst part, the worst part is being alone.

I am terrified of walking home, especially alone. I am terrified of P.E. I am just terrified of being alone on the streets, or at school. I am terrified of bullies. I have been so hurt when I’m alone. It’s when I was called ugly, pregnant, and a piece of shit. All those were from walking home, and picking up my niece, alone. I am tired of being screamed in the face, being picked last, or when getting hit it the stomach with a ball, someone saying, “ooh, now you don’t have to get an abortion!” All that happened in P.E. when I’m alone. I am terrified that somebody will throw grapes at me, push me, and make jokes that I’m pregnant and slept with so and so, which all happened when in the hallways alone.

Alone, what a ugly, disgusting, fearful word. I hate the sound of it, I hate the feeling of it, I just hate alone altogether. Hate it.

Pain

They killed me. Not my “baby”, but my happiness. I thought that this would be over, that they grew up since the sixth grade. But they didn’t, and they might never will.

I don’t really think the rumor hurt me, but just the fact that I thought it died, and it didn’t. I really wish it could die. I just want to stab the rumor in it’s heart, and have all the hate and blood pour out of it, and hopefully don’t stain the carpet.

I know there’s someone out there who will yell at me for saying this, but I just feel that there are many more people that hate me, than love me. And I have no idea who doesn’t really care about me. But their rumors hurt so bad, and when your told them enough, and treated like them enough, you eventually believe them. I used to wear makeup everyday, because I was called ugly. So then when I wore makeup, I got called ugly. Then I thought, “What’s the point of even wearing makeup, I’m ugly with or without”

It’s like Narnia. When the kids go back to Narnia like, 3,000 years later, the trees didn’t dance, and the bears didn’t talk. And when they asked why, they said, “After you’ve been treated stupid for so long, then eventually become stupid”

I’m just so sick and tired of this. Almost to the breaking point.

I thought…

I thought that this war ended. I thought that all this bull crap is done and over with. I thought that after 11 years, I could be happy again. I thought that after being “pregnant” for 4 years, I thought that the “baby” would be born by now. I thought that I could be strong, and hold my head up high. I thought that I could survive. I thought wrong.

I cried for a whole two hours today, and now I’m crying again. I know someone out there is going to yell at me for saying this, but I am starving, but don’t think I deserve to eat. To “kill” my baby once and for all, to stab my stomach, and killing it, something that never even existed. Kill something that doesn’t even exist, never did! What a funny thought. But I really, truly want to kill it. I don’t care if you call it murder, I call it a rumor.

You know, the meanest thing that anyone had ever said to me was either, “you’re a piece of shit” or “your pregnant, but HA! too bad your too ugly to even get a guy” most likely the second one, because it stabbed me twice. But that was over a year ago, and it’s been echoing over and over and over again, for the past year, in my head, especially today.

I wonder what’s the longest pregnancy for a human, because if it’s under four years, I would win. I would win the world record for the longest pregnancy, even thought it never existed.

I don’t want to really talk about it, I don’t really want to be noticed. Not today, or probably not for the rest of the week. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to laugh. I just want to sit in a corner, in the background, stabbing my baby, and cry.

Stop it.

I just came back from seeing, “The Bully Project” It’s a documentary about things kids have to deal with for a whole entire year. It made me cry, and at some parts laugh.

It made me cry about the boy being punched, stabbed with pencils, bullies putting their hands around his neck, and squeezing it. It made me cry, for them to call this poor boy, a fag and a loser. It made me cry, to be so very connected to those things, remembering that some of those things happened to me. It made me cry, when this kid, thought these guys where his friends, because he doesn’t know what real friends do. He doesn’t know, how it feels to connect to people, and to be supported.

But it made me laugh, when that same kid, that kid, and all those things happened to that one kid, was on a bus. And when the kid’s parents found out about the kid being bullied, they saw the principle, and the principle said, ‘I have been on every single bus route at this school, and all the kids are as good as gold.”

And it also made me laugh, that the same kid said later in the movie, “Girls are like candy. Sometimes you want a hershy’s, or a snickers. Sometimes you want a lollypop, it’s hard to decide”

But I cried so much more than I laughed. It’s a really sad movie. True, but sad. I  recommend it to everyone, to have the inspiration to start something new. To help spread the awareness, and to stop having teachers say, “oh, well, boys will be boys so we can not do anything about it.”

That is a real quote from this documentary. So, you should google, “the bully project” and see if there’s any way you can see it, the showing they did tonight was free, and I’m guessing it will be at other places too.

Here is the Trailer

Pianos

I am outside, on Halloween night. Same song, playing over, and over, and over again, ringing in my ears. Irritation. Five hours a day, listening to that bloody instrument. I cannot take it anymore. Might as well throw it in the fire, because now I hate it. I hate it, and every single one of those keys, and my sister’s fingers dancing across them. Hate, hate that piano. Hate t hose songs, which I used to love. She ruined it for me. She had to practice her piano, from the minute she gets home, till the minute she has to stop for my dad to go to bed. From 3 till 8, everyday. 5 hours. 5 long, annoying, painful, mournful, stressful hours, for an instrument that was once beautiful, but now ugly as a swamp. I wish it was at a swamp, so I don’t have to sit outside, with my fingers and toes going numb from the almost November air. Cold, so very cold. But it’s better than listening to the deadly piano inside.

I do play an instrument too, the ukulele. But I never get to practice, because of the bloody piano. And it’s loud. I can go away into the basement, hiding under blankets, and I would still hear that bloody instrument. God, I hate the piano. She ruined my love. I am now going to sit outside, in the farthest part from the backyard, and practice the instrument I love, the ukulele. I am going to bring two chairs, one for me and the other for the laptop, and youtube going, showing me how to play songs. I am going to take my ukulele down, and practice. Practice, without hearing that bloody piano. I am going to bring down a big blanket, and hope my fingers don’t go numb in the cold fall air, like they are now. Bloody piano. I hate them. My love has disappeared of them.

Zombies

HORRAY!!! IT’S HALLOWEEN! The holiday where people dress up who for they are not, and stuff their face with candy. Now for me, I don’t really celebrate Halloween… I don’t have any plans, mom won’t let me trick or treat since I was 10. And I don’t get invited to any parties, and I don’t throw one since no one really shows up…. so I don’t really celebrate.

The only celebrating I do, is helping for a Halloween party for little girl scouts. This year, I was a zombie. And all I bought was the makeup.

I took an old t-shirt, ripped it up and put fake blood (which we already had) all over it. and then I just mixed white and black, and a little blue face paint together, and put it over my face and neck. I took black eye shadow, and but it over my eyelid, and put veins around my eyes, and some on my neck. Put on dark red lipstick, and I was ready