dear diary: i give up.

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"just do it this time, please" i begged mercifully as he held the blade in front of me, my eyes bulging and my chest heaving as i choked on my own tears.

he blinked back at me, shocked at what i had just said but he lowered the knife he had been using to chop the vegetables previously.

"don't talk that way to your father." he whispered as he turned around and got back on with cooking.

"why am i still here. i don't want to be here, i don't like you, father or anyone please just let me find an escape". i sobbed into my big brothers arms. except it doesn't feel the same as it did when we were kids, his hugs don't feel warm and comforting like they did back then. they feel cold and uninviting, as if they are pleading with me to run the other direction. he took the lighter out my hand and set it aside, sticking bandaids onto my bare thighs and making sure to be careful around the bruised areas.

i don't want to be here."

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