Nine years ago when I was six years old I moved back to England. My mum didn't come with me, nore my siblings.. It was just me and my dad. At the time I didn't notice that my dad was abusing me.. My friends at nursery noticed I had big bruises all up my arm.. I just told them I kept falling over.
I had got to about ten years old. I started realising what was going on. My dad was drinking, smoking and taking drugs. Because he was drunk everyday he took his anger out on me so he abused me...
For example; putting my head in between a door and slamming it. When I got to my age of what I am now (15) he kept doing it to the point where I had to get stitches to my head..
This "DAD" made me cut and a load of other things. I almost took my life once because of him.. It didn't help that I was getting bullied at school.. I still am. I realised that I don't need no emotion no more because my emotions are always sad. I wreck other people with my sadness so it thought its best to have none.
