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I sat in the corner of my room curled up into a ball as tight as my body would let me while taking hits from my father. You see...we’re poor, my dad is a male prostitute who gets beat by his pimp. In return he beats me to get his anger out because supposedly it's ‘my fault we’re in this mess.

The money he gets goes to pills...bottles and bottles all around the house Non-prescription. The ones that make him forget i’m his son, his blood, the child he made.

I don’t have anyone to talk to and the Depression is eating me from inside.

I used to have people to talk to 2 guys. All three of us were best friends. They knew about the abuse they knew about my depression. They were the flashlight in my darkness, but when they both moved away two years ago the flashlight flickered off leaving me in my darkness alone.

They tried to stay in contact, but after a few months they just..forgot about me. I remember actually being happy though. It was when my mom was here, I was definitely a mommy’s boy. She supposedly cheated and left that's what my dad says anyway. I don’t even remember how the woman looks.

I know that I have Ginger hair, light green almond eyes, pale skin, and a swimmers build. I have a lip ring and eyebrow piercing which pissed my dad off and got my ass beat.

My dad gave me one last kick to the ribs before stumbling out the room. I stayed in the corner shivering...teeth chattering like I was cold. But I wasn’t I was scared, scared that one of these days he’s gonna go to Far. Beat me to a pulp until I'm lying on the ground limp and lifeless.

I want to die, but not like that. Not a bloody mess with bruises all over my body. I wanna fall...shoot myself one good time in the mouth...overdose. Nothing painful, I hate pain...I hate being touched...I hate being looked at...I hate eating...breathing...living. God I hate everything