Black Crows

Note..

Authors Note:

I remember when I was five years old. 
Me and my mother would be together, walking through the beautiful huge landscape full of tall grass that make water-like waves whenever the wind blew. 
There was six flower covered tress that would blow petals all over the cemented grounds.

Around thee age of eight or ten, I always had a fear of my parents dying.  It bothered me because I loved them.  But somehow I always had a strange feeling that one of my parents would not be here ...with me. 
And as the years went by, I was right.
I saw her, laying in the hospital bed, with her eyes half way open.
Cancer took her, and as I sat in the chair, I was crying badly. Looking into her eyes.

Monday. September 16th, 2013.
She was gone from my life.
At the funeral, I didn't cry, and I didn't cry when the casket gently lowered into the ground.

The day she became ill, I wasted all of my tears.  So their was none left when her spirit went to the angelic place.

Although I don't know how, but, everything hit me the week after she passed away.
I became nothing but a human burden full of anger, hurt, pain, and depression.
It was something that I could not snap out of.
The laughter of others and happiness did not get me out the state of mind i'am currently in.

No one noticed my pain and the dark grief I was going through.
My chest would ache and so would my head.

When the one you love is no longer with you, it seems as if you don't know what to do.
I felt alone. 

The passing of a loved one is not easy to get over.
Many people say "you just have to cope with it." Or "you'll be fine."
But how can you cope with something so heart breaking ?
Especially since that person was the only one you had on the earth.
My mother cared for me and my emotional well-being.  She never hurt my feelings or put me down.
She was like no ordinary mother.
For her love stretched all over the land.  She was like a rare flower. Something that you barely come across in these modern days.

So of course I cried myself to sleep majority of the nights.
Of course I dragged myself out the bed every morning.

Many may see it as me feeling sorry for myself.
But it is indeed not like that at all. The theory is wrong.
It's a sad shame when individuals live in a world like this. No one wants to help until it's too late.

My emotional suffering and grieving heart lead down a dark path.
I let anger take control of me because I felt it would make things better.
But, making people cry and hurting others feelings, (which was unintentional ) did not feel good at all. It made everything worse.
So I decided to be nice, which is my normal personality.
But many were taking my kindness for weakness. Even my own family.
Why would a family of mine treat my depressed and lost soul in such a horrible manner ?
So then I thought..."my family doesn't care about me.." And continued my dreadful Days.

So the anger filled my body.
And this time it would not leave.

I knew I had to seek help the moment I stood in the kitchen staring at the Butcher knife on the table.
So I picked up the bible and start reading it. I began to meditate and pray more.
The anger raised off me and I was recovering.
At least I thought.
I stopped meditating and praying real prayers  and reading the bible for a while.
And that's when I started feeling the same way all over again.

Although I love my father, he was not making my grief any better. I'd get yelled at over the littlest of things. And things that wasn't even my fault.  In fact, it made me sink into a deeper depression. 
I always hugged my mother because I felt the love from her warm body, bestow upon me.
So when I hugged my father, he would refuse to hug me.
"You hug to much." He would say.
Or "get off of me." He would say.
He wasn't paying attention to my actions or the hurt and pain I was feeling. So I guess he didn't know he made me cry that very night.

Since I wasn't getting the love I needed from my family, I decided to make friends and become closer to others.

But it seemed like all people cared about was sex, relationships, drugs and money.
So I didn't fit in with anyone.

You'll learn the story about me.
Do it have a happy ending ? I don't know. Iam only 18 years old.
The story that I tell upon thee, shall help anyone who is going through this.

Thank you