From Alix in the USA
I’m not sure why but I’m sitting here wondering how to put my words together.
I’m fourteen years old and I know more than I probably should. I guess I can start when I have my last memory... f*ck I can’t remember anything. Okay. I'll start with a general mood. My mom and dad are alcoholics. They would drink and leave for nights at a time and leave me alone with my abusive older brother. I was eight and I thought I had a normal family. I had no friends in school, they made fun of me and pretended to be my friend. I was raped and sexually abused when i was merely old enough to remember how to spell my name correctly. I honestly thought I had the most amazing life in the world because I had a mom and a dad and sisters and brothers.
My oldest brother was the one who raped me. I was given a choice: not to tell anyone, this was a good thing and nobody needed to know -if I told my mom, he'd tell her it was my idea, hell I didn’t know what to do, I was eight and still liked to play with Barbie dolls. I remember hearing my parents fight. For years I was scared, when they fought I can’t explain to you what I felt, and what it sounded like. The worst thing was to get involved the police in our city were at my home at least two times a week, and the rookies were required to know everything about my family, they had to memorize the layout of our house, everyone’s names, and how my mom worked. My brother, Blake, was the only one that liked me.
Brandon raped me, and my little sisters and I just didn’t get along. Blake took me everywhere; he always took me out of the house. I was his little sister and for some reason he wanted me to be with him, even when he was with his friends. Then my mom went to rehab. I think I was ten years old. I didn’t know what this crazy place was; all I knew was that my mom was gone to get better. She was so different when my family visited her. She didn’t yell, and she had a pretty look in her face, and she told me she loved me.
I was so confused when she finally came home because everything went back to normal after about a week. As I’m writing this story, I can’t remember much, just pieces. I can’t complete the story because I’ve tried so hard to sit and blank out my life because I hated it. My step dad left a lot and my mom had lots of men come over. They always slept in the basement. I remember one man by the name of Cory. I thought he was the coolest man ever invented. I saw him so many times, then one day he just stopped coming. I don’t talk to my mom about him anymore, because I think he killed himself... I guess there is a good part of my childhood.
I have never had to deal with a death in my family, not any kind except these two goldfish I had, Izzy and Pop. I cleaned their tank, and they died. I thought it was my fault but whatever. They're gone now. Anyways, I remember the first time my mom brought me to an Alateen meeting.. She told me that there were a lot of kids that had moms just like mine, and I should meet them, so I went, and after I got out, I hated my mom so much, I didn’t talk to her. I figured out why she yelled all the time, why she was the way she was, and I thought she was purposely doing it, and I hated her. That was when I cut my wrists.
It started with a simple razor; I don’t know why I did it. I think it’s because I knew that kids with bad parents did it. I didn’t do it deep, and I didn’t bleed. Well I did, but not for more than five minutes. I stopped having friends, and I stopped loving myself. My brother left the house, my only best friend left me and I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was going to be okay... but I wasn’t. I was probably twelve now. I can’t fit age in my stories, because it’s stupid and I can’t f**king remember anything anymore, except the stories.
I finally started to get friends once I got to the seventh grade. I remember Landon. Landon was my friend’s boyfriend, and he instantly loved exactly who I was. I have notes that he used to give me, and comments from my MySpace that told me that I was the best person he's ever met and I was like his sister. He didn’t know I cut myself, so I told him, and he didn’t like me any less. I was also friends with a girl named Michelle. She will come up in this... story of mine. I stopped cutting myself for almost a year and started to like my life, or from what I think. I started to get friends and they invited me to their house.
One of my friend’s dads' drank himself to death, and I thought that she was like my long lost sister. Her name is Jessica. I remember one night when I went to her house with Landon’s girlfriend, Alyssa. They introduced me to girls and when I say this I mean that we played games that included touching each other. I didn’t realize that girls were different than guys other than from what we looked like, and I started crushing on girls more often. I didn’t tell anyone though, because I knew that lesbians were weird. My mom started drinking more often and she stopped caring. I still went to my meetings and thought that I had conquered the first step.
I always knew when my mom was drinking, and I always told her I knew, and forgave her because I thought that she would stop, but she never did, so I just kept forgiving her, and then I told her she was a drunk... I remember it was late December, and she was drinking. To this day she still denies it. I called her a drunk and she hit me. She hit me and I walked out of the house and went to Michelle’s. Michelle was my other best friend. She went on vacation with my family when Blake left the house and we had an extra ticket. Her mom let me go to her house and I stayed there. I called my father but he didn’t care. My parents are divorced, by the way. I now have a step dad and mom.
My dad isn’t a dad; he buys stuff for me and expects me to love him. That night he told me I couldn’t stay with him and his wife agreed. I thought he was saying this to be a good dad and make my mom and me okay with each other. My aunt came over and she fought with my mom and my mom grounded me, because she told me I lied to my aunt and made them fight for no reason. I thought I was the most horrible stupid child to stand on the earth, because that’s what I was told.
I started cutting again, and this time I used serrated knives. This time they included designs. I remember not feeling anything when I would cut myself, because I was already numb, and I already wanted nothing but death. I don’t have pictures. I only have scars. I told Landon that I wanted to die, and I was sent to the hospital and was told that I had depression. I wasn’t put on pills but they told me that I wanted attention and I needed to love myself. But I didn’t, and I was let out of the hospital.
I confessed about my rape, and my brother still hasn’t been fully charged. He is gone out of my family. He has stolen so much from us and he's lied to the city and to my family for too long and we are all f**king sick of his bullshit. He is such a f**king screw up. I hate saying it but all he does is lie, all he does is drugs and he pretends he’s the most perfect child on this fucking planet. He knows everything and nobody can level to his greatness, because he is god compared to everyone. I’m getting f**king pissed off at my f**king keyboard because it won’t type what I’m trying to say All its doing is screwing up my words. And all I want to do is run in my kitchen and grab a f**king knife and carve at my wrists. I haven’t cut since January, over four months ago. About a year ago, I overdosed on Tylenol. 17500 MG of it and they told me I was going to die and I was happy and I wanted to die and I was happy Landon saved my life. He told the police and he saved my life and I wanted to die but I was so happy he saved my life. I wanted to cut my wrists and I still do now. They told me I was going to die and I never did. They lied to me, everyone lies to me. EVERYONE LIES TO ME. Why am I not dead huh? Why am I not in the f**king ground HUH? Why can’t I be f**king happy? Why can’t my brother be in the fucking ground? Why can’t HE be dead because that’s all he deserves is f**king death and I want to stab him so bad.
Nobody likes me, nobody loves me. I have my friends now but no boy will love me, no girl will love me. I’m bisexual. NOBODY F**KING LOVES ME AND I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY this F**King keyboard wont f**king type what I want it to type and I’m getting angry and I want to run to my kitchen and slit my wrists. I haven’t cut in months and I want to now. All my life I’ve felt like this big f**king joke. That’s all I am, one big f**king joke, because nobody loves me. I SWEAR TO GOD I’M GOING TO THROW THIS PIECE OF SHIT ACROSS THE F**KING ROOM.
As I try to f**king explain my life story I can’t fit everything in. I don’t know how to because I only want to tell you everything out of order and my fingers wont type correctly and I want to f**king cut my wrists. I can’t say anything more, because my fingers have stopped working and I swear to God I’m going to walk across the room and punch a f**king hole in the wall. My f**king headphones make my music sound like shit and I’m going to run into something.
My mom has been sober for like six months and all I can think about is how f**king angry I am. I stopped taking my anti-depressants a few days ago that they put me on them the second time I was in the hospital. They do nothing but screw me up and I can’t f**king type and I’m going to kick something. F**k. I don’t know if there is anything I can tell you to make me different than what you've probably heard already but people need to f**king know that I’m so angry. F**K. I can’t even think and I want to cut myself. I DONT GIVE A F**K ABOUT FOUR MONTHS AND I’M GOING TO GET A FUCKING KNIFE NOW.
If you want to hear more just email me back, put this on your site I don’t care. All I want is for people to know how hard it is to pretend that I love my life all the time, because I can’t. F**K IT WONT TYPE RIGHT. F**kgf**kf**kf**kufk**kf**kf**kf**kf**kf**kf**kf**kuf k.
whatever.
-------
Next email
Okay, I’ve kind of cooled down so I need to add more of my story into what I’ve told you yesterday. My best friend, Blake, [brother], is also a drug dealer, he has been smoking since the fourth grade and he is finally getting his life on track. My oldest brother is still a drug addict and everyone in the city still hates him and talks shit about him to me every day of my life. They both owned what you might know as a "party house". They owned the house with all the drugs, all the alcohol, all the parties, and all the bad people. I've smoked before, weed and cigarettes. I've drank one day in my whole life. And I hate it and I will never do it to get drunk, or even to just say I did.
I got expelled from my high school in March. I dealt five dollars worth of drugs so I could afford lunch, and they f**king expelled me, and I want to f**king bomb that f**king school. But I know I won’t. I’m on a online school, that’s why I’m able to send you this long email, along with my long email yesterday. I’m so confused on what the hell I should do with myself, because I don’t know what to do and my mom doesn’t either. I work five days a week at a creamery. I have like five friends I actually hang out with. If I could go anywhere I’d go to the Netherlands or Canada. I want to see the boy I love and my best friend. But all I can do is talk to them through my stupid cell phone and over online services. I rarely see the guy from the Netherlands online because of time difference. Well I do see him every day but only for a couple hours or so. Then I work and he's asleep when I get home. My best friend from Canada is easier to talk to of course, because we are able to text and talk on the phone and we're in the same time zone etc. blah blah blah...
The other day I almost got arrested. I was with a couple friends and they were smoking cigarettes and they're underage, and at that time I chose not to smoke. They got arrested and I didn’t. I don’t know why I’m happy...but I am...but…I still wanna cut......
|