My Last Suicide Attempt

School project

I got to school after taking the bus just like I thought I would have to...

Today we were going to have to work on out childhood project. I am still kind of nervous as to start it but in a way I think I need to write it to get my story out there so people can hear it. I mean I want people to know that they are not alone what stuff like this happens.

My childhood wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst either but that also doesn't make it any easier to handle. I think this is one step closer to finally being able to let go of this life. It almost makes me smile. A real smile. The teacher started talking and giving us instructions. She handed out a piece of paper with instructions on it and types of questions we could answer and put in it. It had questions like:

What was your favorite toy as a child?

What were your parents like?

What do you really think about your childhood?

What kind of memories do you have about your childhood?

What was your favorite food as a child?

What is one of your biggest memories as a child?

There were a few more questions I didn't bother reading them because I was going to do this my way. We were supposed to write an essay to hand into the teacher and a speech, poster or power point to present to the class.

I started writing the speech..:

"Hi, my name is Katania(cat-tan-ya) Ferrato (fair-auto)

        My childhood was different than most. One thing I want to say to start off it that everything I am about to say is 100% true and hard for me to tell. I was going to do just a stupid, cookie cutter, unreal presentation and stuff but I decided to do the truth. So here I go... My family moved around a lot, I lived my mom, dad and two of my five sisters Michelle, who is now 26, and Rachel who is 20. My mom was a stay at home mom with an injury that left her sick. She progressively gets worse. Now she just lies on the couch all day in pain and tries to sleep. My dad is a workaholic, he never stops. The only times he spend time with me is when my mom forced him to. I never found out about that till this year. It broke my heart. My sister, Michelle, got pregnant at 15 and had a child at 16 she moved to Momma Way so that she could learn how to be a mother and still be able to go to school and graduate, which She did and she is now going to university to become a teacher and has two sons. Rachel is one of my sisters but she and I had a very different relationship. She would talk good things about me to everybody but when it came to talking to me she would threaten that she would tell people that I was stupid and worthless, that I was fat and ugly. It hurt a lot to know that my own sister wished I was dead. When I was four she pushed me down the stairs and I was hospitalized. When I was six, she beat me up this time and we both hid it. She never touched me again for awhile but the verbal abuse and mental abuse got harder to take. At age thirteen, she held a knife to me, luckily for me she didn't do anything more. That’s one of my biggest memories of her. At age seven I had a babysitter, he seemed really nice he would watch me and my sister. One day he was watching only me because my sister was at her friend’s house. That day was the first day my babysitter molested me. I kept quiet because he threatened me. It happed four times after that and nobody has found out until now. Throughout the ages of eight and nine, my Uncle Vern and Aunty Anne died. I was very close to them. At ten in the beginning of March I left to Endmonton because my grandpa was sick. His cancer had spread. The person I was closest to in my family was my grandpa. We were there til beginning of April. He passed away March 28th 2007 around 3:00AM. I picked out the gravestone. I was the shoulder my grandma and my sister Rachel cried on. I didn't shed a tear at the funeral. I had to be strong. In my mind I had to be there for other people and help them first. It’s what my grandpa always told me, is that I should be strong. We went to go see him in is casket when it was open before the service. I held my dad’s hand. I remember every single detail of that room. It was burned into my memory and it still scars me almost six years later. There’s so much behind every person that nobody will ever see because if it's one thing we learn, it’s to hide it. Something I've learned just before this project is that if you can share your story and effect even one person to get out of a situation, it can save a life. If there is anybody who has been through anything like I have or even just being bullied, just know that I am always here for you and you can talk to me no matter what or talk to somebody at least.  "

I know my speech is long but I think it's what needed to be said. There was only 20 minutes left in this class so I decided to start working on a poster quietly. It will show and say a lot of things. I got through the class without an interruption. At the end of the class the teacher called me up to say she was proud of me for doing my work, I nodded and walked out of her classroom. It was the last class of the day so I gather my stuff up for the project and headed of to the bus stop. My dad was actually picking me up today.

Getting into the truck, he asked me how my day was and I said fine and put on some music. The ride was quiet as usual. Once we got back to the house, I went up to my room telling my mom I had a big project to do. She nodded and let me go.

The presentation part will have to be done in two days and the essay in four. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon so I won’t be in English.

By nine o'clock I had finished the poster and most of the power point. I also finished the rough draft of the essay and decide to grab something to eat.

I just had some noddles then went to bed, thinking how weird it was that for once I didn't feel like crying or even cutting. I did everyday for the past few weeks now.

I decided not to ponder it too long and welcomed my bed.

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I woke up at six and decided to start getting ready as I will be taking the bus today because my dad starts work early again.

It infuriates me how he works so much and then buys me things thinking it buys his love. Sometimes I wish that maybe he would just take me out somewhere without my mom telling him to. I know that day will never come though. Just a silly dream I should stop believing in.

School went on as usual, the cold stares and the stupid sneers.

I made small talk with Natasha for a while before I headed off to my classes. At 12:00, I went home to get changed before I go to the doctors.

I have a doctor where I don't need my parents to see her. I like it because stuff is kept between me and her without my parent’s involvement, which is good in the case of my scars.

Most of them are gone now. I have a few from two days ago but not fresh enough for anything she can do. I can just say I relapsed and am talking to my guidance counsellor again. She always believes me. I got home and snuck through the door into my bedroom as to not wake my mom or disturb the dogs. I made it out and started my walk to my doctors, listening to music

Everything seemed odd about today. I can't really put my finger on it but ever since I found out abut that project, things have been off.

My appointment went as usual her giving me the 'talk' about my eating. She thinks I am developing anorexia due to the amount of weight I lost and my eating habits. I almost never feel like eating. It seems like a waste to me.

I got home and once again quietly enter and headed off to my room. I finished off the power point and smiled to myself it was going to be perfect.

I wrote my essay over and over and over again. I think I may have written it 10+ times. I knew it was perfect though. Tomorrow I will hand in my essay early and do my presentation then go home, wait though an uneventful night, go to school, see what happens and then I will lay down my note and it will be the night I will be set free.

I checked the time it was 2AM, I chuckled a bit to myself. I never check the time. I picked up my guitar a played a few songs. A few songs turned into dozens after about sixteen songs I stopped singing and just strummed.

By the time six rolled around I was just finishing up and started getting ready for my presentation. I put on a neon pink tee with a v-neck a pair of black, ripped skinny jeans then my plain black sweater. I wasn't planning on wearing my sweater during the presentations but I had to wear it for my parents. Grabbing my phone and all my stuff for English, I walked out and ate some breakfast. My dad got out of bed just as I was finishing up eating and drove me to school. I was thankful or I would have been late for school again. Weird, considering I was up at 6.