Chapter 1
Once there was a beautiful baby that came out of the womb and was finally born! “ It’s a girl. Oh look at her, she is so beautiful oh my lord. I was loved by so many people. I loved life the way that I’ve had it. That didn’t last long unfortunately. It was my 6th birthday and I was so happy. I got everything I ever wanted. There was something I didn’t understand when I was really young. Here I am, 6 years old. I finally understood why my mother was fighting with my father. Now I know why mother kicked dad out the house. They don’t love each other any more, which is very sad. I automatically knew that it was my fault. I hated myself because of it. I knew that I was the problem in the family. Later on that year I was diagnosed with depression. Let’s skip a few years to the age I was 12 years old. My step father was home, mom was at the neighbors house. My brother Michael was asleep. Gabe was there but he was too young to understand what was happening at the moment. Oh my gosh! What is he doing to me? I was so scared he was touching me in the wrong way! Why was he doing this? I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do with my life any more! When I was 14 I had to deal with my first break-up. I felt like I was unloved. I felt like everyone hated me. I felt like I was never going to find someone as good as him. I was so upset that I started isolating myself. I tried running in front of a moving car. I felt like I no longer wanted to live. It was so hard for me. I went to multiple hospitals. I hated myself. I hated everything that involved me. I would pray to God every night, and ask him to show me a sign. A sign that I was going to be okay. I went back to school for a while. Then I had multiple arguments with my father. We eventually got so tired of each other that I isolated myself, and my dad started hitting, slapping, and punching me. I was so sick and tired I packed clothes, I packed food and my favorite blanket. I went out of my window. I lasted a few days, possibly a week. I got really sick. I walked a lot. I eventually made it to Brigham city. Somebody saw me on the floor laying on the sidewalk. They stopped and asked me how old I was. I answered 15, I am 15 years old. The person’s expression was shocked. He asked if I needed a place to stay. I said I do but I’d rather get sick and die. His eyes were practically pooped out of his eye socket because of how shocked he was about me saying I wanted to kill myself. He told me a lot of things that happened to him in his life. I felt so bad for him. He said he had to call the cops so I could get some help. I told him he is probably right about that. He was so nice to me. I knew that he cared for me. I wished he would stay with me. Although he could not. I was so sad that I could not stay. I cared for him, he cared for me. Currently I am at the mental hospital, at Utah state hospital (USH) cedar unit
