I hate this time of year. Then again I hate every day. It is all torture. From foster home to orphanage to terrible home I jump, waiting, praying till I turn 18. People tell me it gets better and i’ll b happy soon. But does it really and how do they know?
I was taken to a new home for this holiday season. The couple has lots of money and the mother is a doctor but she can’t have kids so she chose me. Lucky me right? No. I’d rather b a million other places. The one thing I can tell u about this house… the basement is cold and the ‘father’ is a creep who has touched me in so many inappropriate ways I will never forget. I feel disgusting and i’d love nothing more than to be able to disappear. I sit in the corner hoping the walls will swallow me soon.
I’m just wanting to give up. Prayers, Dreams, and Wishes will never save me.  They are a waste of time though I guess I can’t really say that I’ve got alot of time to myself and my haunting thoughts these days. I’m afraid of the night because my nightmares are reality and physical pain is nothing to me now…..
My Birthday is coming up just three days before Christmas. And then I’ll only have a year left. But deep down i’m thinking to myself I couldn’t get myself a better gift than a way out this year.