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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing48m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Jul 31, 2018
I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. One moment I was doing ordinary things. Things that are not worth remembering. The simple life of doing chores with my brother and mother. Then the next, I find myself nestled on the rubble of what used to be my home. Why can't I just remember those little things? All that is treasured in my mind is pain and misery. I'm not ordinary I suppose cause these things happen only to those who live an ordinary life. Who am I? Who am I supposed to be?
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  • Broken

The average human being spends every second of his day fighting against the force of nature to see another day. But I'm different. I'm not afraid of outside forces to take my life away - only myself. Approximately 10 years ago, something happened to me. Something really bad. But I'm not allowed to talk about it. As a way to release my frustration, I give hell to my body and everyone I come in contact with - especially my parents. No one knows about what happened except the ones who did it...and Him. But he didn't stay. Now, he's back and he's not talking either. I want to stop hurting, I need to stop. Make me stop.

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