Would this ever end?
My whole world is shit.
I'm not wanted at home, nor at school.
I'm not wanted anywhere.
Not a day passed where I don't sit and think about the life I'm living.
Maybe I shouldn't live.
I don't have a 'life' anyways.
Right?
Nobody would care.
Day by day I hate myself even more.
I hate myself more than my dad hates me.
More than my teachers hate me.
More than my brother hates me.
And boy, does that say a lot.
I miss my mum.
She loved me.
So so much.
Back then, even my dad and brother loved me.
We were the happiest we had ever been.
Werent we?
Why did my mother do this to herself?
She shouldn't have killed herself.
It should have been me.
She shouldn't have suffered.
It should have been me.
She shouldn't have had those bruises.
It should have been me.
Was it really my fault?
What had I done wrong?
I loved her.
At one point, I had began to realize something.
She had started to shift.
She began looking tired.
Sad.
She started to keep away from the outside world.
But the most noticeable thing, was a shocker.
She had bruises.
Up and down her arms.
Around her left eye.
On her legs.
She looked as if she had gotten in a fight on the tube.
What had happened?
I wish I would have asked her.
Maybe I could have helped.
Was that why it was my fault?
Because I didn't ask her what was going on?
It couldn't have been.
I never hurt her.
I loved her.
I love her.
