I want to escape, I don't want to feel like this anymore. I'm underwater, I can't breathe, but it's okay it'll be over soon. Just a little more, just a little longer, then the pain will be gone, and so will I. My lungs are heaving, trying to find oxygen where there is none, burning as they fill with water.
I distantly hear a knock on the bathroom door, but this time I choose to ignore it, because I really mean to die this time, and refuse to let them interrupt me again. The pounding on the door continues, or maybe it's just my ears pounding to the beat of my heart.
Just then, my dad bursts through the door, and approaches the bath tub. He must have used a penny to unlock the bathroom door again, I should have known they wouldn't let me go. He yanks me out of the water, and thus begins pounding on my back. I start expelling water, coughing it back up again.
I guess I failed again, I'm still here in this wretched world, unfortunately. My head is pounding from being underwater without oxygen, and I can hear my mum yelling at me about something, but I couldn't hear her, because my ears were pounding, and were slightly blocked with water too.
The thing is I don't want to die, but I'm sick of people hurting me, just because they can, and I hate that my parents think they're not part of whatever is making me suicidal or depressed, and keep preventing me from ending it all in my own way, from stopping my own suffering.
My hearing is slowly returning bit by measly, bit, which is good and bad news for myself. I am in my bedroom crying yet again, although that's nothing new, it seems to be a daily occurrence for me. My parents don't really care about me or my feelings though, they just don't want my death on their conscience, that is....if they even have one.
Both my mum and dad, forget about me a lot; say hurtful things to me, and have been known to hit me before. My mum will use her hands or a slipper to spank me; clip me around the head, or ear, and she's slapped me on the face before, or on my hand. My dad has strangled me, kicked me, punched me; clipped me around the ear, or back of the head. My dad has also, used a belt on me before, slapped, or spanked me too on my ass, and he's also shoved me into a wall, a door frame, or down the stairs.
I remember when I was 10 years old, I went missing, although technically....I suppose you could say I was kidnapped. My parents noticed I was gone, but they never contacted the police, or went looking for me. My mum assumed I was staying at a friend's house, but never even checked to make sure I was, and my dad went along with it all.
I got lucky and escaped my kidnapper that day, he unfortunately found me, and strangely enough he brought me back to where he kidnapped me from, he dumped me out of the car, laughed, and then drove off.
I had to walk the rest of the way home, and I was in excruciating pain, so I contacted my best friend Katherine to come and get me, because I couldn't walk the rest of the way home. She allowed me to ride piggyback to the house, and I thanked her, before letting myself in through the front door.
Only my family didn't even seem to miss me, or realise anything was amiss as they celebrated my brother's birthday without me.
I was shocked as you can imagine, I couldn't believe they could be so horrible.
I could smell the smoke of the birthday candles after my brother blew them out in the living room, I could see that my mum chose to make my brother a cake instead of a store bought one, and from the looks of it the cake was my favourite flavour, chocolate!
We ended up arguing for a while, I was so enraged, I decided to pack up some of my clothes and other belongings, to go and stay at my best friend Katherine's house. I was there for nearly a month, before they forced me to go back to my parents house.
The atmosphere in that house is heavy, ominous, and very negative. I want to run from it, I hated this house, and it's all because my parents treated it like it wasn't home for me, as well as the fact it was filled with poltergeists!
I wish this was the only time my parents let me down, but they continue to prove that they are not capable of looking after children at all. The trauma I'm going through started with my family, and it progressively got worse when I entered primary school, leading to bullying, rape, being mugged; and stalked home.
I'm not a bad person really, I tried my best to be nice to others, not that it ever got me anywhere, if anything it made me an easy target of several forms of abuse. You wouldn't know me really, apparently I'm easy to forget, I'm practically invisible really to lots of people, until I'm not. I wish I was invisible all the time so people would stop hurting me.
I tried ending my life a lot, even self harm too, but nothing really helped, especially in high school when I started drinking too. It only numbed my pain for a little while; and smoking helped my anxiety. I kept smoking more and more as my tolerance increased, same with drinking I suppose.
Bad things happen to me most days, I wonder if I have a kick me sign somewhere on me? Well anyway, you're probably wondering what this has to do with anything. I'm getting to that, basically from a young age I would play a make believe game of being transported to another world. My best friend Katherine called it Magic world, but in my dreams it was called Magicia.
We went on adventures there as we struggled with our realities in life, and it was really helping me at least for a while, when I was at school I needed other vices to cope with my suffering.
However, Katherine decided she didn't want to anymore when we entered high school, I still needed that escape though, and Katherine became less of a friend and more like a manipulative bitch than anyone else in my life.
She wouldn't even let me end the friendship, even though I tried to several times over, she would use her manipulative ways to persuade me not to end our friendship which really pissed me off!!
Without the magic world I had to find other ways to fantasise about other things, some of them were good, but most were bad as they reminded me of what I have, or what I'm still going through.
I ended up reading more instead, having unsafe sex with strangers, drinking more, and withdrawing from my family too. Unfortunately there was nothing that was effective enough to help me entirely.
When I was 13 years old my parents and my high school had me see an educational psychologist, all they did was have me draw and paint, it did nothing for my mental health really....
I nearly fell whilst I ran from yet another evil person, while I recollected on all my past traumas.
A man started stalking me, I couldn't go back home, because my parents kicked me out onto the streets again. It was the middle of the night too.
I yelled for help, but nobody heard me, or they just didn't care. I circled back around to Park Fields, and decided to go towards Padgate Lane, so I could cut through a side street there.
I needed to get as close to my neighbourhood as I could in the hopes that one of them would help me.
It probably wasn't a smart idea to head for Park Fields, but I struggled to breathe, and was panicking as well.
I came across the side street, and realised that I wasn't too far from the park now, this gives me a sudden burst of adrenaline.
I was getting closer to my destination, so I decided to listen to my instincts, and head for the fairy circle.
Until he grabbed me, then I had no other choice but to knee him in the groin, and choose a different path. He lets out a grunt and curses under his breath, while I make a smooth getaway.
I needed to head towards the stepping stones instead now, so that's what I do. As soon as I got there and stepped on the first stone, everything started to shimmer.
I suddenly began to slowly disappear, but it's okay, because being invisible will hurt less, won't it?