My suicide(not a poem, but please..... read!)

In this.... I'm going to tell my entire story. The one with the sad ending, because I know it won't end pretty.
Before I was even born, my mom and dad were screwing, and my mom got pregnant. While she was pregnant she was raped. My dad ran off, claiming he wanted to be in my life but doing the opposite.
My mom left Calgary and moved back in with her parents when she had me. At that time she was doing drugs, drinking, and smoking.

I recently found out she did drugs till I was five.

I lived with my nana for three years, and was there nearly everyday for twelve years. When I was growing up I was always happy.... well until I turned 5.

When I was five, my mom and dad were fighting constantly. At the time I would hear them fight, and naturally assume it was about me. Their fights got longer and louder, and I just got scarder. I was so little, yet at 5 I was up late during nights listening to the screams. To this day if I get yelled at I will break down and cry.

When I was 6 my dad and mom seperated. I was devestated. I didn't want my dad to leave. He went and lived with his girlfiend, who I hated with a passion.

Then, my parents got back together to try again for my sake, and my mom gets pregant again with my sister. I am 7 now. In grade 2, the kids are mean and are always calling me names. I just stayed quiet, did my work, went home and cried all night.

Two months before my sister was born, my dad left again. This time for good. I was furious. I begged him not to leave, but I couldn't stop him. He left anyways.

A month later, my great uncle dies. He meant so much to me, I just remember being numb when I heard the news, in complete shock. Standing in my grandma's kitchen, seeing her break down bawling as she got the news he passed away.

Then my sister was born. My mom was working in the city and my sister was with our grandma alot. Yet, when she was at home, I was taking care of her. My mom was either working, stitching, or cleaning. normally my mom was working. I took care of my sister a lot, so much so that she became like my own daughter.

The kids at school got meaner, nastier. When I was 9, a classmate hated me so much he followed me in the schoolyard on day. We were by some trees and he locks his hand around my throat, choking me to the point of near unconsciouness. The next day he brings a knife to school and threatens me with it. When this happened, I backed away from my class. I was scared and young. My best friend didn't know... she still doesnt.

Years go by, I just become more and more isolated. I become severely depressed. When I was twelve I met a guy. He was so amazing, and we dated for a while. He was depressed and so we helped each other out..... but then my parents got tough. I moved to the city, left my old life behind and thought I could start anew.

I start the new school.... just a few weeks in I find out my ex committed suicide. I get even more depressed. I stay to myself, not letting anyone in.

One night... my stepdad had his friend over and his friend was staying the night. He was drinking. Him and I were the last ones up, and he was really drunk. I was playing on the computer, he comes up behind me, and puts his arms around me, gently caressing my chest. He stayed this way for a while..... but then he got forceful. I didn't scream, my throat had gone dry and he was choking off my air with his....

Anyhow, I get up the next morning, scared. He doesn't remember a thing and so I don't bring it up.... I suppress it. Then... just a few months later, I met a guy at school. He was alright, and also depressed. We dated, but... I broke it off after he raped me. Then... I went back to him the following year.

When I was 13 it was the "first' time I attempted suicide. at least, thats what my parents think. My true first time was when I was 10. Since then.... it varies in how many times in a week. sometimes as much as nearly every day.

I admit it, I cut. not deep on my wrists, but just enough. the deeper cuts are on my stomach..... and they're deep. Just like the scars on my soul.

My ex raped and physically and mentally abused me for three years. Eventually, one day it got so bad that he gave me a really bad concussion and I could barely move for a month.

I've had three friends commit suicide. Another ten who are on the verge.

My soul has been lost and shattered for years. I always hide it and say I'm fine with a smile on my face. I honestly wish I could say I was.

This past summer, I nearly watched my nana die in my arms. and my auntie passed away at 38. It broke me even worse, and it hasn't honestly sunken in yet.

Now I am fifteen, depressed, suicidal, and close to giving in. I cut, drink, do drugs, and smoke to get rid of the pain, the memories,the dreams. I try to forget all of the horrible things that have happened to me but I just can't.

The bullying has never stopped, my parents think I'm faking everything and that I'm a liar. Nobody believes me. I'm invisible in my own house. I simply get yelled at for trying to stay alive. I've reached the point where I can't take it anymore.

I'm sorry....... but I can't hold on anymore.