Following you | Jilix

Ruined pages

Han's Diary

February 12, 2010

I don't know why they get so angry all the time. Today Dad hit me again. I didn't even say anything. Just walked into the living room after school and they started screaming at me. Mom said it's because I'm lazy, that I don't deserve the food they put on the table. But it's more than that. I think they hate me. I don't remember the last time they smiled at me. I'm so tired of it. Sometimes I think about running away, but I have nowhere to go. They'd probably find me anyway.

Why do parents have kids if they hate them so much?

Sometimes I just want to scream, but I can't. It's like my voice has been taken from me.

April 3, 2012

I'm thirteen today. I didn't get a birthday cake. Not even a "happy birthday." Just another slap for not doing the dishes right. I don't even care about that anymore. I don't care about much of anything. It's just... numb. Like I'm floating through life, waiting for something to change, but it never does.

Mom said it's my fault we're poor. My fault Dad drinks so much. I'm not even old enough to work, how could it be my fault? But it doesn't matter. Nothing I say matters. Sometimes I wonder if I just disappeared, would anyone notice? Would they care? Probably not.

July 27, 2013

I don't know if I'll ever write this again. I'm shaking while I write this now. They... they did things to me. Mom's "friends." I was supposed to be cleaning the house, but these men, they came over and started laughing at me. I didn't know what was happening until they had me cornered. One of them held my arms behind my back, and the other... the other did things. Horrible things.

I couldn't scream. I just... I shut down. It's like I wasn't even in my own body anymore. They kept telling me to shut up, calling me names, telling me I was dirty, broken. I just stood there afterward, frozen, while they left like nothing had happened.

I want to die. I don't know how to keep living like this. I don't know how to breathe without feeling like I'm suffocating.

December 15, 2015

Sometimes I wish I could just disappear, but I'm too much of a coward to do it. To end it. That's the worst part, really. I think about it all the time. Would they even care if I was gone? Probably not.

Maybe I'd finally have some peace.

I tried telling Mom once, about what happened with her friends. She slapped me and called me a liar. Said I was trying to ruin her reputation, make her life harder. As if it wasn't already hell.

May 6, 2016

The worst part about being broken is that no one notices until you're too far gone. No one sees the bruises anymore. No one asks why I've started missing classes or why I never smile. No one cares, really. I'm just... here. A body. A shell.

But there's someone. He's always around the neighborhood. I've been watching him. He's not like everyone else. He's... different. He's quiet, but there's something about him. He seems happy, and it's like he's from another world. Like he doesn't belong here, with the rest of us, in this messed-up life.

I like watching him. Not in a creepy way. Just from a distance. It's... comforting. I don't feel so alone when he's around, even if he doesn't know I exist. I'd never hurt him or anything like that. I just like knowing there's someone out there who hasn't been ruined like I have.