Mar 2012 30

Im 14, not a child, not really. Children ae innocent and pure. I am neither.
When i was three i was sexually molested by my grandfather... it continues intill i was five. By then he stopped because i told my mom.. he never did pay the time because no one believed her.

When i was seven, by step brotgers friend raped me fully. He did many things, but none as scarring as my grandfather.

When i was eight, i drew a picture of a house, i was on the steps. A man in a chair wearing a hat, smoking, was there too. It said in a bubble, if you tell your mom what i did i am going to...... then it stopped. Since then ive ben seing councilers.

I also have a mentally abusive father. He will yell and hit walls and scream, and put me down untill he thinks im done for. He wants me to be perfect like... marissa. A girl from my school. Why? Becayse her grandparents own the bar. Did i mention he is a drunk? And! He beathis ex wife so bad she was in the hospital thought to die.

At my mothers i was never happy. I would put on a show for them all. I was their little monkey. They would be nice enough.. but i was always made fun of, put down, yelled at, hit, and felt like trash.

When i was eleven, i smoked a cigarette to see if it would calm me down... it did. I sill try and get money then get people to buy me them...

When i was just 12 i started cutting. The first time, i wasled into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, my dads scissors he just bought glinted against my face, i picked them up and slices my leg twice. I fell asleep crying that night... even though it was the happiest id been in months. Soon i started using a razor and doing ut every day.

My best friends nate and jaden helpes me through it. But i stopped, last year sunday.... two days before mothers day, i carved love, hate, jaden, nate, renzo, noelle, and kill me, onto my legs and arms. I was sent to a mental hospital for three days.... i didnt want to go home... whenni did i didnt cut for seven months, but i was raped again... so i started up. Today as i look at my scars, i habe 345 of them.. and fourteen words. Four names.

kill me
hate me
why me
good bye
and.... im done
the very last thing?

[by Anon on Sun April 1, 2012 10:34:03 pm]
I hate rapist more than I hate Westboro Baptist Church, so let me give you some advice. Keep something sharp with you at all times, which should not be a difficult habit to adapt. Then, when you believe you will be raped, shove it into his crotch.

Add reply:
User name (Optional):
Reply text:
Enter letters and/or numbers you see:captcha image