I'm done. I'm fucking done. Does nobody understand what I am saying? I'm done, but even though I keep saying that why am I still walking down the halls of this hellhound called school? Why am I waking up everyday? Why aren't I just dead? I wake up and I stare at the mirror. I stare and I see the scars. I see the scars all over my body and I think about what would happen if I die. Would anything happen to me? Would it be the same as it is now? I walk around and people don't even see me or notice me. They stare right through me as if I am invisible. The sad part is my parents do the same. Ever since my brother took his life they think they aren't parents anymore. Do they not see me standing right there? Can they not hear me screaming at them to help me? They ignore me and now I have given up. I know they aren't going to help me because I am not worth saving. Right now I am writing this and tears are falling down my face and the only image going through my head is a razor scraping against my skin. That's all I see nowadays and that's all I do. At night I stare at the scars and my mind just goes blank. I stare at the patterns the scars have made on my skin and I observe every part of it. I try to sleep but when I am asleep I am vunerable. When I sleep I won't be able to protect myself when he comes in my room. It usually happens when he is drunk, which is every other night. I grip the rod with my right hand and stare ahead at the door. I hear the footsteps, the uneven footsteps, coming up the stairs. He is drunk today and I already know what's going to happen to me. I grip the rod and sit up on my bed. The steps become louder and I can see the shadow from the bottom of my door. I close my eyes and plead but the odds are never in my favor. The door opens and I open my eyes. He is standing there staring right at me. The same disgusting smirk comes over his face and I cringe. I can smell the alcohol from here and even though its happened so many times, fear takes over my body. I hold the rod tighter and pull it closer to me. The sudden movement caught his attention and he sees the rod. He walks towards me and pulls the rod from my hand. I close my eyes and tears leak down my face. He slaps me, twice, and pulls my hair. The pain, I can handle this, I am strong. He pulls down my shorts and I can hear his pants fall on the floor. I open my eyes and try to blink my tears away. He holds my hands above my head and my legs are thrashing everywhere. I know whats going to happen but I will never stop fighting. He throws me across my room and my head hits the metal draw. I can feel the blood drip down my face but I can't move my body. I see him over me, and in one movement he is inside me. Tears are falling down my cheek and I cry out for my mom, but we both know that she will never help. I know for a fact she can hear me but she doesn't care. He stops and gets off me. He stares at me and there is so much hate in him eyes, and I know why. It was my fault, and boy aren't I reminded everyday. He gives me one last glare at slams my door shut. I still don't move from the floor because I just don't want to. His glare is fresh in my memory, and I can't stop crying. My own father, the person who was supposed to love me has done this to me. He has broken me and he doesn't even care. He doesn't care that I am dying inside because of him. I'm done, I'm so fucking done.
