~This is my second story but the first one I did I didn't get anywhere so I decided to try something else.
This is also something from experience but not all.
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It all started like a year ago, probably a little longer but I'll start from were I am now...
This place is like shit. You are closed in. All doors locked, and there's no way out except going in the backyard and climbing on the roof and run away but that's most likely not gonna happen!
And being this locked up for me who's claustrophobic is not fun. At all!
I've been here a month or so, I've been here one time before but that was just two weeks or something.
Being here is doing me no good. I've felt more depressive when I'm in here but in a kinda way it maybe feels a little okey to be here and the only reason to that is because I'm not home.
I don't know where home is.
People keeps asking me "where do you wanna live?" & "which parents house would you live?" & "what do you wanna be when you grow up?" Etc, etc..
The only answer I've got to that is, I don't know and I'm not even sure if I'm ever growing up. They ask me "why? What do you mean by that?"
Isn't that fucking obvious?!
Bitch, you already know I have a death wish, why the fuck are u asking me that?
I don't really like to say "Ayy, what I mean by that is that I'm gonna die. Sooner or later, and that's before I'm gonna turn twenty. That's a promise to lucifer.(lucifer is satan fyi).
I'm gonna be like Peter Pan. I'm never growing up, just stuck in Neverland.
Story of my life.
I'm in here for suicide attempts(3), self harm, and a break.