another story

i feel like just another sob story whats the point of talking about the past. my councilers say it makes u feel beter me it only brings up old pain. im Carla  my biological mom had me in high school. then she had my brother out of high school. my dad was never around. some say i wouldve died if it hadnt been for my greatgramma. she died a couple years after  i turned 6. my mom was a junkie her suplier was her boyfriend my oldest sisters dad. he hit her and me and my brother. one time when he was drunk he took a fishing poll and spanked me with it until i bleed. or so ive been told honestly i dont remember alot of things before i was 10. it was my fault me and my brother and sister where placed in fostercare the first time. i told someone about the drugs and that night a sps worker and 2 cops came and took me my brother and my sister. they said they were taking us to my aunt neldas so we would go willingly. i still havent told my brother and sister it was my fault.  the sps worker lied she took us to a fosterhome. my little sister is half black and was three at the time. the family we were placed in was a black family, im not racist but they were. im white and so is my brother we werent treated well. no they didnt hit us and yes they fed us but whatever their son said was law. i remember one night i was in their kitchen getting a glass of water and their son came up behide me i knew what he wanted even at such a young age i punched him and ran to the room my brother and i shared. he said i punched him for no reason everyoone called me a liar. even the social workers belives that boy. we were placed in a different home. beter then the one before but now the family was white and there was only one parrent  a grama but i never called her that. a short time latter  we were placed in my great aunt nelda’s home. relitive placement they call it. i was screwed up when my aunt nelda got me. and i only got worse. aunt nelda soon became auntiemom and the adoption process begain then the deaths started the first to die was my great gramma then my uncle charles my great aunts husband then my uncle matt. i was so angry why did god take them from me i dont know. things went from bad to worse. i was suspended bad grades no friends and i hated everything and everyone even myself. one day i found a knife i started taking it to school figered id just stab myself when no one was looking. that never happened one night when i feeling really down i held the knife to my chest and kept telling myself just do it already everyone would be better off without u. then my youngest brothers face came to my mind what would he think of me when he got older? would he be teased because his sister wasnt strong enough to live? i didnt kill myself instead i got on my knees and prayed to god for his help. the next morning i threw the knife agianst a tree in our yard it smashed to smitherins. that was the last time i tryed to comit suicide