My Life and My End

Why I Don't Feel Anymore

The reason why I don't feel emotions anymore is that when I was younger, they were always abusing and toying with me that I couldn't risk getting hurt anymore.

Here's how. My parents hit me sometimes, screamed at me. Overall, they really just mildly tortured me. The boys would write false love notes and send them to me. Then the next day I would see them with their mate. Thus, I learned to not trust anyone anymore. My life used to be all about my emotions and how I showed them. But now, these days, I learned to never show them again.

I tried to tell the police once, actually. They just said that my parents spanking me when I needed punishing was normal and to only complain about in 5 years. I was 4 at the time.
"Why?" I had asked.
"Because in 5 years, you'll be too old for that. It'll be inappropriate then." One of them said.
"She doesn't know what inappropriate means." The other laughed.
"Yes, I do." I pouted. "Do you think I'm an ignorant little girl like the others?" I asked him, my arms crossed.
"Is ignorant even a word?" The first guy asked.
"Yes. What does inappropriate mean, then?" The second police officer replied.
"It means something that is not suitable or proper for the situation," I answered.
"Where did you learn that from?" The first guy asked, smirking.
"I read the dictionary because I was bored," I stated, smiling.
"Who the hell reads the dictionary out of boredom? While didn't you go outside and play with the kids?" The first guy said, confused.
"The other kids are the ones to play with me. They are rude and mean. Truly, rude and mean. I can only venture into the woods for so long before father comes out of the house with the shotgun. He threatens to shoot randomly and that he'll find me." I said, kind of angry. "I could never just go outside and have fun. Either I'm too scared of my father shooting me or the other kids are hurting me." I looked away. I remember holding back my tears.
"Why don't you tell someone? Like your mom. Tell her what the kids are doing." The second police officer said. He had sounded concerned.
"I've tried twice. Both times she completely ignored me. The second time, I got a little more brave and pulled on her shirt. She turned around and screamed at me before... sending me to my room." I had said. I think they could tell I was lying, or leaving something out, but they didn't question me. It was the first time she had ever slapped me. She's slapped me two more times since then, but I won't get into it.
"Well, kid, I don't know what to say. I really can't help you until something big happens and I find out about it. Don't lie to me, though, alright, kid?" The second officer said. I remember nodding before he sent me off.

The day after that, I was beaten by some of the other kids. It was the most painful it had ever been, but I've endured a lot worse since then. They were yelling at me about how the police had told them off. Or, as they said, I was a 'tattle-tell'. I mean, nothing in my life goes according to plan. So why make a plan? I don't. I stopped. Hardly ever do I make a plan, and if I do, I'm the only thing that can affect it.