Why is death so satisfying
2 years ago, I was broken
(warning none of this is true, its all fictional )
I used to be loved, I knew what it felt like, but ever since my mom died, my father has covered himself in alcohol, which made him abusive, only one me. By that time my older brother was already 16 and had moved out, and my oldest one was 18. It was only me at home. My dad abused me, whipping me everyday when I came home, I never called he cops cause I was scared, I was so anxious to do so, he caught me and knocked me out with a bottle, I wish I was dead after that.
I couldn’t move, I put my heart on hold. I wouldn’t let anyone know why I had that giant bruise on my head. All of the books that I write have Something to do with my life, This was the era of my transition to middle school which somehow made my life worse. Some times I wonder if my life is worth anything. Suicidal thoughts rushed through my head at that time, I thought if I was dead I would be free. I landed myself in the hospital, I thought I was dead.
I used to be loved, I knew what it felt like, but ever since my mom died, my father has covered himself in alcohol, which made him abusive, only one me. By that time my older brother was already 16 and had moved out, and my oldest one was 18. It was only me at home. My dad abused me, whipping me everyday when I came home, I never called he cops cause I was scared, I was so anxious to do so, he caught me and knocked me out with a bottle, I wish I was dead after that.
