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( Prologue )




One would ask...what the hell am I even doing with myself right now? 

What is going on in that head of mine? 

Am I really that weak?

...Well...I guess I am...

But I haven't been always like this.

There was a time in my life when i had everything, one can say I was living a perfect life, a perfect family and few good friends probably one can ask for.

It didn't last long though...all shattered like a dreadful surprise that suddenly hits you in the face without giving you the necessary time to process it all.

I found myself in darkness. I could hear my heartbeat and wanted to mute it. I got an intense urge to get out of everything. It started draining me. I began to lose my power.

Even in these very moments, the voice of my mother begging desperately to stop as my dad hit me and her continuously without showing mercy...

The harshest and dirtiest words a father could ever call his daughter...

My mind and heart was out of control. I've absolutely had enough of this life. If life was really meant to be this way for me,then I didn't want it anymore.

The sky was clear with no stars,my heart thudding against my chest like a wild animal wanting to be released from its cage,tears streaming down nonstop. Only brief flashbacks lingered on my mind...

''Go away you filthy bitch!"

"Get out of my way!"

"Stay away from my life!"

"Why are you still alive? What are you waiting for? Just die already!!!"

That's right...what was I still waiting for?

And then I saw, on my kitchen counter, five shot glasses filled with alcohol by my father. And I had always pictured myself committing suicide by slicing my wrists with broken glass. It was such a frequent image in my head I had almost began to fetishize it.

My mind was screaming: 'Do it! Do it!'. Tears were still flowing down,no one loves me, no one cares about me.

I just can't take it anymore...this pain is devastating...

So I walked over to the glasses and smashed one of them against the kitchen's tile floor. Then I drank some alcohol, took some pills and sat on the floor surrounded by shards of glass. I picked up the nearest one and started cutting my left wrist. After two minor cuts and little blood I realized something: it wasn't sharp enough. So then I crawled through the broken glass looking for a piece that was.

I cut myself deeper and deeper until it left bloody scars all over my wrist. I passed out doing that.

Who'd miss me anyway...right? 

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