Hello, i'm Brooklyn Scott. I'm fourteen years old, and I live in Toronto Canada with my mother. When I was seven years old, my father left us to be with another women and her children. That's when my life changed dramatically.
Being told at that young, that your dad left you to be with another family, is like being told that you were adopted. That's when I became extremely depressed. I started eating less, I didn't want to be around family or friends. I became very neutral, and quiet.
My mother only knew half of the story to why depression is eating me alive, which is the situation with my father. There was another reason, which I never told my mother because I was afraid. I'm not a typical teenage girl, I don't have beautiful long hair, and shining blue eyes. I don't do my hair all nice, and put on a bunch of make up. I don't have nice perky boobs, and a round butt. I wasn't what you'd call "beautiful." Which is why everyday i'd get bullied by a social group of males and females.
They always come up with something new everyday to humiliate me infront of everyone. Yesterday it was spreading ruins about me. Telling everyone I had sex with my cousin. Then making up things and confronting me about it when I was at my locker. Now I have to deal with being called shit like, tramp, slut, whore, close your legs you freaky bitch, but guess what, they think hurting me, and treating me like trash is funny. It's sick the way they get their humor.
Today as soon as I walked into the building, people stared at me, and started whispering to their friends about how much of a slut I am. Then I see them coming, the little twat waffles themselves. I wonder what they have planned today, it can't be worse than what happened yesterday. At least I thought it couldn't any worse. I was bending over to get a drink from the water fountain, when Jakob (a guy from the social group) came up behind me and thought it would be funny to first bang my head into the water fountain, and then second cut off a big chunk of my hair.
This was my breaking point, I was seriously done with everyone and everything. I didn't say anything, I just picked up my bag, and ran home. By the time I got home, mother had already left for work. I was happy though, because now I wouldn't have to listen to her try and baby me, and ask me what happened. I just went upstairs to my room, and changed into a pair of sweats, and a tank top. Once I was changed, I sat on the edge of my bed crying. I finally decided it was time.
I went into my bathroom, and grabbed my pills, I took the cap off and grabbed my blade, (I hide them there so mother doesn't find them). I looked at my pretty wrist, and said, "i'm sorry, i've been strong for way to long." That's when I made my first cut, and I kept making more and more cuts, until my hand got tired. When I looked down, there was blood everywhere. I ran my arm under warm water to rinse the blood off, then I got gauze and tape, to warp around the cuts so they wouldn't bleed. After I finsihed cleaning up the mess I made, I layed down, and began to watch netflix.
(Do you like or dislike?)
Please comment and tell me what you thought, should I make part two, or delete the story?
