Prologue

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I'm cursed

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I'm cursed.

Something always goes wrong when I rely on someone. When I was young, about 9 years old my father abused my mother for the first time in front of me. I didn't know it was happening because I had never seen it on tv or heard of it at school. But once he locked her in their room and I heard cries, banging on the door I pleaded with him to stop. If I had been older I would have called the police or grabbed a weapon but I only hit the door until my father left the room.
It never left the back of my mind. At school I'd ask if God would be angry if I attacked my father to protect my mother, but the thought of abusing ones parents was foreign to religion.

I ran to shield her when he didn't lock himself with her. He must have forgotten or become brazen enough to do it in front of me. After protecting my mother I clung to my phone and dialled by lover. Crying and sobbing into the small rose gold device I bore my heart out. All the fear and pain I was feeling.

That person replied with;

Are you crying or laughing?

Continuing to speak, I realised I wasn't speaking at all. My words were scrambled and fried; I was vomiting them all over the place. No one understood and no one cared. Not even the police.

***
The second time I relied on someone was when my father told us he was getting a second wife. He was 53 and she was 26. That was the period of time I cried most in my life. I couldn't fathom the betrayal and pain I felt. My entire childhood, my admiration and love for my father gathered up in my throat. I felt corrupted with coal, hyperventilating with saliva drenching my hands that held my jaw. My eyes felt like they were being punched, my heart was shattered, my soul fading away.

I went to a friend, he promised me he'd always be there for me. He swore he loved me. He answered as I laid my heart to him. All he said was;

Cry and let it out.

For some people that may be enough.
But it wasn't for me. I laughed internally and rolled my eyes. Cry? I am crying. If I wanted to die, or if I was in the process of dying would you tell me to die?

Dying will let it bleed out.

But no they won't let me die. When a person talks about death they begin to care. But the idiots don't understand, just like being isolated is a sign of depression, anxiety and socio phobia, crying is a sign of everything negative. Pain is a sign of upcoming depression, anxiety, withdrawal and eventually a slow death.

**
The third time I relied on people. I didn't keep it at one person. I figured, two people have a higher chance of helping me. Being there for me. That's what I learnt in English, you don't need medicine or psychologists to help you, you need a loving and supportive environment. You need a secure social network to help you get through pain.

The third time was a fight between my father and I, he was going to kick out a member of my family for running off and coming back. I retorted with the fact that he left us three times before, for a month each. Returning back only to brag about the women he 'met.' Eventually returning with a woman. Oh wait no. She's a young woman few years older than me.

When I told my friends, I waited. I waited and waited. But none of them replied. I guess my problems aren't as big as theirs. I made a vow to always be there for them. Why couldn't they do the same for me? Why do I always think about others, give them what I want only to have them disappoint me over and over again?

Why? Why? Why...

Something always happens when I rely on people. All stages of my reliance has ended in disappointment. Pain. Anger. Every time it happens, I swear I'll never rely on them again. But I forgive them and return in this cycle.

But this is the last straw. I won't rely on humanity anymore. I'll work hard myself, I'll build a wall that will never be crossed over.

I won't be weak and ask for help. I don't need or want anyone.

I'll be strong.

I can do this.

You can do this {....}

***

Hey, guys! I'm so sorry for taking the chapters off this site. I'd like to edit them more and have better scenes, grammar and drama.
I wrote this at 17 and unfortunately the writing is hideous. I'll update 3-5 times a week!
Thank you for reading and I'm sorry for the wait! But the re-edited version will be much better.

Love, A

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