November 7th
Dear Diary,
Sorry about not writing yesterday, I was fucking right. He put me in this soft room with pillows everywhere and then tied my hands together. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? Well according to them, it’s to protect me because apparently I failed so test where he asked me these dumb ass questions like weather I loved myself. Well I am the type of person to give a straight answer. So that’s what I did, and look what it got me. See those lessons you learn about telling the truth, Fuck them. They actually thought I was suicidal, Me Suicidal??
Anyway back to the past. Yay. I hope you can pick up on the sarcasm even though these words are written down, well if you can’t well they’re there.
Well my mom was a drunken shop o’ holic she would spend hours at a time applying the same stupid shade of lip stick while I sat in the same shit filled diapers for days, god the house would smell. Just an FYI for you: I know I curse, I curse all the time. It’s kind of something a kid picks up when his fucking low life parents are dead and has to live with a wackjob of an aunt which is never around except to take me to my “Special” Appointments. I would get into more detail about her later I’m to pissed right now, I always have to cook for myself, that was the one thing my mom actually did right. She would give me money to buy some food. Ha, did you actually start to think that she cooked for me. Hell No. Any way back to explaining,
Dear old’ Daddio, He wanted to dump me at an orphanage and be done with me. Yeah Thanks dad! I probably would have been better off anyway!! Have you ever seen those stupid movies where some widow with a child would marry a good for nothing fag that basically only sat on the couch drinking beer, played poker with his fat-ass buddies drinking beer, and screamed at the widow and her kid drinking bear. But the widow always stayed with him for the cash, well that was my dad, my real fucking blood related dad. No vivid memory of a hero or kind gentle man to try and remember, There he was beer in’ all.
Well there we were the wonderful trio; god doesn’t that sound attractive… Shit, is that burning…? Got to go, guess the soup is done…
YOU ARE READING
Diary of an Unloved
HorrorThe Anonymous diary of a suicidal who wont commit suicide and trys to conivice anyone to do the deed for him, but he might not always want the job done. Things change. Let me know what you think of my fictional story!!
