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Darkness keeps me alive.(Winner)

My submission for the weekly short story contest. Prompt : Dark light
WeeklyStoryContests

"Things always get better. In the end, everything's gonna be fine. Be positive and hopeful. You'd never know when happiness comes running towards you. "

That's what everyone says. For me, these are the things that enter through one of my ears and exit through the other. You need to kill your hopes to live this life. I did. Be realistic. Things won't change. Keeping hopes is like waiting for Angel in hell. Does hell have angels? Will hell ever have angels? I am Samantha Horan and this is my story.

I was what you call the blessed-kid with such loving parents, sweet elder sister, many friends, that is until my 14th birthday. The day which was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life ironically turned out to be the worst. I was going to cut my cake with my sister beside me. I paused as I was just about to plunge the knife in the cake. I wanted to cut it together with my sister. I excitedly turned round to hand over the knife to her. The knife accidentally sliced her wrist. She yelled in pain. Blood flowed out of the cut. I couldn't move for a while. My mom and dad were swearing and hugging my sister. I couldn't just stand. Her bleeding would get worst. I hurried and called the ambulance, my cheeks stained in tears.
"Ambulance will arrive soon. You'll be fine sister." I forced my words out. I wanted to caress her but I knew better. I rushed and brought back the first aid box. I never mean to hurt her. I tried to bandage the cut. My parents pushed me away and I was shocked.
"I'm sorry. " I kept repeating, my knees going weak. "S-she nee-needs bandage." They didn't let me bandage.

"You devil. Don't touch my child! You tried to kill my child," mom accused me. I was more shocked.

"Mom. It was-"

"We should've never adopted you."
My eyes were wide open, my throat dry.
"We should've left you rot on the street," shouted she again. I was trying hard to stand straight. I couldn't any longer. I fell, knees hitting the floor. Her eyes had so much despise. I needn't ask if I had heard correct, her eyes told everything, so did my parents' behaviours after that day. Emily was safe, thankfully nothing happened. I wasn't killed as threatened to be. From that day, I was never treated the same. I was a thing, just a thing. I was still sent to school- torn dress, messy hair. School served hundreds of more scars on my body, new wonderful nicknames and eventually the weakest grades. I was still hoping. I stopped when my only friend, whom I trusted so much, slapped me in front of the whole school on my first day of senior year at highschool. That day many things happened. That day I got popular over social media. That day everyone in the town knew me. That day everyone saw my natural form. That day I found a new home- the street, new friends- the street dogs. Thanks to my best friend. Today, I'm devoid of hopes. And I'm living. Thanks to my so-called best friend.

All those days are my motivations, my inspirations that keep me going. I remember those darkest times and cry and cry and get myself satisfied. You feel better after you cry. Trust me. Whenever I get a little sad, I remember them all, increase my sadness and pour it all out by crying. I remember I have no one to call own, I'm all alone. That's what makes me happy. "I'm doing okay without anyone's support."
I remember all those insults, all those pushes from stairs and feel honoured. "I was always noticed. I was so popular. Everyone knew me."
I notice all those looks people give me when I walk on roads. "Everyone notices me, everyone has their eyes on me."
I look myself in the mirror and smile at all the brushes, scars and wounds on my face, hands, neck, everywhere. "Because of me they laughed. They had fun."
I smile thinking about my past, my weaknesses, my imperfections; understand what a filthy creature I am. That's what gets me going. I don't hope. I don't expect much that's why I'm more or less always content with things. I remember all those times when I've been tried to be taken advantages of. "Yeah, I am of some use."
I see light in darkness. Darkness is my light. Tell me now, is hope necessary? Is it necessary to hope them all to accept you for who you are? Hope that one day you'll have friends? Hope that one day you'll find a home , a caring and loving family? Hope that one day, you'll be treated as a human? I'm 30 years old. I live alone in a small hut. I sweep floors, wash utensils, clean houses and that's how I manage to keep my stomach full. I have two petticoats on my wardrobe . I can wear any of those two! They're my favorite clothes. I'm doing fine without any hopes. Do you really need to be hopeful? No. Not even a single hope is necessary to be happy. If you never hope, you never get hurt. You live happy, you live long. I don't hope. I get positive by getting negative. I don't expect any things at all. That's why I'm always content with things. That's why I live. If I hadn't sorted my feelings completely that day, and not killed my hopes forever, let me tell y'all, today it'd have been my fourteenth death anniversary. I question you again, do you need hope? Should you hope? Should I have hoped? Should I start to hope?No. I never hope. I never hope you to understand me.

(WC= 982)-story