Child murderer

My course of life

~sorry for not updating I couldn't be~
~bothered and Cindy said I should~ ~update it so~

By the time I was 12, I had spent 6 years within the plain walls. The walls were like a blank canvas in the sense that they had so much potential. They spoke words to me, I don't know how.

The walls mocked me, encouraged me, befriended me and slowly destroyed me. The walls gave me company, yet they were eating me alive.

I was losing the little sanity I had left. I was empty inside. I felt nothing but overwhelming sadness. But it wasn't really sadness. I longed for actual sadness, where you cried, with your heart pounding, hands shaking. It would bring some sort of excitement into my isolated life.

There got to a point I was refusing food altogether.
I didn't seem the point in carrying on anymore, so what was the point in eating.

Or moving.

Or speaking.

I didn't even scream anymore.

I really am empty.

My childhood had been snatched away from me at 6 and now I have forgotten how to live, and to be honest I don't think I even had the time to learn in the first place.

I remember forever doubting myself. I doubted that I was alive, or that I was even human. I didn't feel human, and I didn't think I looked human either. The nurses looked alive. To me this was shocking. I was in awe of life yet I didn't want to live. I was a mess. Some of the thoughts that raced through my mind then are still stuck with me now. To anyone else it would be shocking that a child so young had such a dark shadow in her mind, but to me then and now it was normal.

It was my course of life.