The Story of My Life

Confession 1- (prologue 2?)

     Okay, okay. I know what you're thinking. No, I didn't kill anyone (though I was tempted). My main confession... is cutting.

     I cut myself... and it's really no big deal. It's not within my religion to consider suicide, and I assure you, I am rather keen on becoming a Marine at some point, and I want to see grand-kids far in the future. Suicide is out of the picture. 

     Cutting is just simply cutting your wrists and forearms. It's a temporary pain, and leaves cool scars. I just heard about it a little while ago, and people said it was great, so I tried it.

     My pocket knife wouldn't draw blood, so I used a shaver. It didn't hurt, it just felt weird, like (I KNOW THIS SOUNDS WEIRD) slime... 

     I'm not just some dork who cuts for no reason. I actually have a reason. 

     My father abused me mentally, giving me a mental condition, where I felt loyalty towards him, like a dog. But my mother took us away. She took me away from the one man whose approval mattered most to me. I don't know if he still loves me.

     And I may never see him again. We will NEVER be a happy (ish) family ever again. My mother got us pets, as if they would fill the empty void left inside of me.

     A long time ago, I asked for a dog. My father yelled at me so hard. I ran to my mother in tears. "I... I'M A BAD DAUGHTER!" I sobbed. She hugged me tightly, remembering the dog she had when she was little... at least, I think.

     Then, I asked for permission to buy myself a small pet bunny. I looked all over the place, did all sorts of research, then constructed an elegant ten-page essay. I just hoped it would be enough. He came to me in happy tears, saying that it was the most well-structured essay I'd ever written. 

     But he said yes, THEN TOOK IT BACK.

     Then blah blah blah happened. (read my story Fatherless) and I became fatherless. MAYBE FOR GOOD.

     So there.