Bad Days.

Breaking the ice.

Let me just say that this isn't just another story about how someone falls in love, one gets hurt, the other realizes they made a mistake, then they leave happily ever after. Fairytales don't exist in my book . Truth is, they never really have. I can pretend as a child that they did, but it's just not the truth.

As a child, I was blind to see that my father was a drunk. My mother, depressed, bi-polar, and well, you'll understand. School wasn't bad. Just like any other kid, school wasn't my favorite place, but I had to go. Just the thought of waking up so early killed my little self , too bad. I had friends, but I don't remember much from grades 1-3. Just that my grades were good and I loved to read and write.

Growing up, I realized more and more. I realized what was happening to my family. We were falling apart. I began fourth grade and it didn't seem too bad. I met a girl who I called my best friend. Later to find out she's just another little backstabbing bi-

Okok, moving on . I had a tough time because I was chubby and well, I was more developed than any other girl in my grade. I had boobs, big fucking whoop. My ass shouldn't have been the size it was, get over it. I felt vulnerable and my self-esteem was in the negitives.

Later that year, my uncle moved in . I despised and disrespected him for the simple fact that he was the reason that my dad was always out. I couldn't stand the way he made me feel. He was so weird and made me somewhat angry.

Things began to fall out of place. School began to make me depressed. Home(more like hell) gave me crippling anxiety . My mom left and I stayed with my 2 sisters and my hero(older brother,Guero).

My older brother is literally my savior . He took me everywhere . He protected me no matter what. He was just amazing. No one would ever be able to take his place.

My father grew colder, so did my heart. I grew angry at him, he was a stranger. He hated me because I wasn't afraid of him . I seen him put his hands on my mother like a little bitch and I still wasn't afraid.

Weeks passed and my father decided to kick my brother out. My brother took my heart with him I swear he did. I told myself I would never be able to forgive him for that . I had never been so goddamn lost. I grew angry and depressed. I missed my brother so much, I cried every night.

My father would spend his days with my uncle in our garage drinking their lives away . It's as if they were seeing how much alcohol they can consume before they fucking die. Pricks.

My birthday came and my father took my sisters to a party. My uncle in his room located in the basement and me, locked in the room crying. Suddenly, I heard a knock, I really hoped it was my brother. I opened it slowly to see my uncle standing there. He dragged me to the basement were he slammed the door to his bedroom with us behind it. He pushed me onto his bed. I didn't understand, I couldn't think straight. He began to feel me and I began to squirm around. He ripped off my shirt and tears stained my cheeks . I started to shake and my mind came to a complete hault.

RING RING!

It was the doorbell ,then the sound of keys rumbling. He threw me and I ran back into my room . I couldn't stop crying. That was it, I'm powerless. He gained complete control over me. The kind of control I lost when my dad first hit me so bad to the point where I had bruises everywhere. I picked up a blade, my father had plenty . I usually used it for arts and crafts, but not this time. This time, I put it to my writs and and gained the courage to press down . I kept on cutting. I laied in tears in bed until I fell asleep . All I was able to think of is if this would end my suffering. If it would kill me or what my life had come to .