Before She Cried

At the moment I'm holding a knife to my wrist, still unable to make the cut. Though I should, make the cut I mean.

Before ending this pathetic life, I want to tell a tale. So take a seat, make some popcorn on the process too. It is going to be a long one.

From where should I start? The age of five where I was molested everyday by a neighbour? Or the time when my own cousin molested me when I was shy of seven? May be from the time when I used earphones to cancel out the sounds of the fights between my parents? Or when I was put under the pressure of making my parents proud even at the cost of my mental health?

I think I'll just start with how I made myself a fool by thinking a certain man can be my knight in shining amour and protect me from.