The Winding Roads

  The house was in an uproar; with every step you took there was glass all over the old tile floor of the house of the Anderson's. As I open my eyes I begin to hear the evil screams that are expected in this broken home. I walked into the dinning room, and what I witnessed was the beginning of the winding roads of my life. With everything that has happened during my childhood has left me unable to recall anything during the time I was born to twelve years old. As I was growing up I can remember the things they would say about my mother, and I never really came to understand why until I had my thirteenth birthday. 

  Once I became a teenager all I wanted to do is to have the chance to spend time with whom I called my friends. I learned very quickly that my mother was not going to allow me the slightest bit of freedom. With the fights between my mother and myself increasing, I began to wonder why my mother acted the way she did. With every day I was able to understand that my mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She refused to get the required medicine that was needed to counteract the sickness. As I opened my eyes I would notice the difference in how she acted on a daily basis. When Mrs. Anderson would get angry she would begin stabbing you with blame as if everything you did was wrong. 

  When this side of my mother came to play she would throw anything around the house no matter if it was glass, stone, or metal. With this happening I became afraid of my broken home. Living under the stress of not knowing when she would throw a fit, or for what reason was becoming to much to bare. As I became older my mother wanted to control even more of my life as if I could not make a single decision on my own. As a teenager I did not take this well; Therefore, this was this marked the beginning of many fights between my family. At this point in my life I began doing everything I could to get away from her over the weekends, because I was tired of always fighting with this woman. As Mrs. Anderson's Bipolar tendency's came to life she began abusing her animals which consisted of twenty cats, and one dog. 

  While watching her beat these animals It made me so sick that I wanted to show her how it felt to be beaten over and over again for no reason. Being Introduced into this broken home, I only wanted one thing which was a happy life with my parents. I unfortunately lost faith in that once I came to know this pain. Over the months i was growing tired of the depression, the fighting, and the sleepless nights. It was clear to me that living in this house I would never feel what they call happiness, and at this point in my life I believed that God wanted me to feel this pain. Once my sister Ashley Anderson saw how much stress I was under she invited me to a party at Presleys Lake, and without a moment of thought I accepted her wonderful offer. 

  While I was at this party I punched one of my best friends in the face with the rage of my mother pushing my arms. This sparked a fear in my sisters mind that made her go to our mom about this issue. As any caring parent would do; my sister brought it up to our mom with good reason. Instead of talking to me about it, my mother made several phone calls to my friends asking them if this had really happened. As close friends he replied with pride with 

  "Yes Austin did hit me, but we are over it. We are like brothers, and I will not let that get between   us."

  What my mother did next was the start to a new pain in my heart, she did not allow me to see my sister or even talk to her. Due to my mothers problems, she forced me to act like I hated my siblings. The love for my family was stronger than her will to control me; so I used my brother to continue seeing my sister. I did understand that I was defying my mother by doing this, but how could my own mother keep me away from my loving family. I went to my sisters house behind Mrs. Anderson's back for a total of five weekends, and on the fifth weekend someone in the family leaked word about what I was doing. After coming home from that awesome weekend I was confronted by my mother whom was demanding an answer to where I was that weekend, and in that moment every bit of fear crept its way into my life. 

  As any teenager would do in my situation; I lied to Mrs. Anderson with the solid reply of "I was with my brother, and his father for the weekend." Once I told this lie she began screaming, cussing, and threatening to hurt her own son. My mother came to the horrifying decision of grounding me for a total of three months, and this included not having any electronic device or not even being able to speak to my friends. During these three horrid months depression was leaking it's way into my mind, and I was so tired of living this way I began thinking about suicide. At this point I could not sleep, because I was so afraid my own mother would come into my room and harm me in some kind of way. These three months seemed like three years, and It was even worse being locked away in my room as if it were a jail cell. 

  At the end of these three months my mother told me I could see my brother as long as I did not go anywhere near my sister again, and on the day of my nephew's birthday my brother wanted to take me to see my missed family. Someone at the party took pictures of me in my sisters back yard, and with this being said these pictures were delivered to my mother. When I got home that weekend I was trapped by my mother, and once again I hear the words "Where were you this weekend?" I was so scared of what was going to happen next, and I regrettably lied once again.

  She showed me the pictures she obtained from the unknown source, and told me that I was grounded for six months. I went to my room and crashed to the floor with tears pouring violently down my face. During this six month period suicide became apart of my daily life, I can remember the horrid thoughts that no teenager should have to never have to think about. I attempted or thought about suicide almost everyday; I just wanted to be a name that people knew nothing more...nothing less...

  It had been four months since I received the six month restriction sentence, and on that note I cried for a total of three nights straight. I couldn't take it anymore, and with that being said I went into the kitchen to get the sharpest knife I could find. I then went to my room with everything weighing on my shoulders, and I took the knife to my wrists where I slit both veins. I soon past out with the loss of to much blood. A total of three hours went by, and I just woke up from that tragic event. I was so confused as to why I was still alive. I cleaned myself up before anyone could notice what I was doing, and I thought about what just happened all night. I came to the conclusion that this was God telling me that it was going to get better, and it was not my time to leave this world.