I walked to and from school, every day. That's where they would ge me. That's where they were safe. They would cut my wrists and kick my chest, cut my hair. I would run home screaming crying, but my mom was always in work. I would run to the bathroom and clean my cuts, and wash away the blood from my wrists. When my mother got home she would scream at me, as she thought that I had cut myself. She was as because she thought I wanted to leave her. She would scream at be often, but would never hurt me physically. Only mentally.

Every single day this happened, the pain, the blood, everything.

It still happens now. I thought that during the summer I was safe but I was wrongs. Everywhere I went they did this. I was terrified to tell my mom, scared of what they'd do.

But yesterday they took it too far.

I came across a feral cat. I approached it but they got to it first. They grabbed it by its scruff and teased me, saying that I wanted to pet it. They.. Skilled it. One slice to the neck and it was dead.

If you a re reading this it's too late. By the time you read this I will be gone, probably to hell, but gone. I will be dead.

I'm sorry