UndeadGhostGirlXD

I wanted to die. I had for a long time. Was it fair for children to grow up hating themselves? No. Had I grown up in such an environment? You better bet your life on that one! From the age of seven years old I had wanted to die. I craved it so desperately. Crying myself to sleep, hoping, praying the next day I would not awaken. What had led to this? Crazy abusive mother? Check yes to that one Juliet. Clinical depression? No hesitation here. Self-abusing role models? Stroke another tally in her wrist for every time I said I wanted to be just like her. Caught in the middle of a hate fueled divorce? Sign here, here, and here. What kept me from doing it? Scared? Till I was about ten years old. Raising two baby brothers? It stunk but someone had to change their diapers. What saved me from my bloody fate though? Growing up fast enough to realize the world revolves around the most horrible of people. Realizing from a young age I was sick. Knowing that one day it could get better. Finding out if you waited long enough that you did have some ups that made the downs bearable. Eventually