Lost Life

Lost Chapter 1.

Today I'm currently living in Tuscaloosa,Alabama. In a household of 8 including my parents and I. I am desperately trying to grip on to life, struggling. I'm holding on for dear life hoping that someday someone would catch me, at least before I fall. It's not my intention to fall, it is a possibility but not likely.

In fact I might just lose my mind before I lose my grip. Either way it doesn't matter nobody is going to find me in this dark cold unforgiving world. If I do fall it won't do any harm I'm technically living in hell anyways, or is it just me? It's hard truly hard I feel so lost like I'm drowning in my own blood, gasping for that little bit of air but doesn't receive any, that's what it feels like to feel lost.

You go in public always having a fake smile but everyone is fooled and believes it's real like nothing is wrong but deep down something is wrong, terribly wrong. Everywhere you go you're constantly feeling guilty, even for no reason. You feel like you're spinning in a continuous loop. If you ever get a bit of pride it's immediately crushed, your feelings, dreams, emotions always crushed. You then begin to turn cold, showing no emotions to anything because you will just get hurt again. So you continue on with that fake smile that seems to be fooling everyone, but enough with this sappy stuff I'm going to tell you about my life now.

So it all started when I was about 3 or 4 years old my parents were arguing really badly. I remember packing my bags and leaving, having no clue of where we were going. We just kept driving and driving till we reached our destination in Mobile, Alabama. Supposedly was our new home. It was a trailer, not that great but it's all we could afford at the time.

One really great thing though was that we lived really close to my grandparents, in fact right across from them, literally. It was weird though like a Circular shape, to the left was our great grandmother, and far to the right was one of my aunts. I visited them a lot in fact I probably spent more of my day with them then with my mother. But I never really liked my mother but she was the only person I could look up to at the time. I did have two older sisters but they were always too busy with their friends.

My mother always used to tell me that I was sick and fed me lots of medicine, Of course I believed her at the time because I had no idea of what being sick truly felt like.but little did I know she was trying to kill me. and that medicine would be her way of killing me.