I cried for hours. I wanted to escape all the thoughts that wanted to harm me. My father rushed into the house loudly pounding against my door every night demanding me to give him more money. Over the years i assumed it would get better but it never did. I wanted everyone to feel guilty when I'm gone, for not caring enough to check up on me. The faded and fresh scars laced all and across my body, the bruises on my face, and the days I would come into school reeking of alcohol.