The day I killed…

I have always been a lost child in the wonders of how this world work, felt different, alone, unwanted. My perception of life was so different from others to the point I was unsure what the definition of life was… to me life was what we based it on what we create of it, not repetition and constant drills to form us into all similar beings. I never understood peoples fascination with money when I was younger, it was paper… why did people fight over it. As I grew I started becoming more frustrated with the world in lack of understanding the point of it all? What makes a single being different? If I died tomorrow, how would that effect the world today?
I started dating a guy when I was 12 (around the time a begun to drink alcohol), seemed like a great guy, and understood me to the point I started to believe there was a point. He adored me, loved me… But I never knew what i was getting into till 4 month later he started punching me in the arms. I was considered a tom boy so I seen it as just a gesture. The bruises started getting more frequent, chipped teeth, black eyes, choking me to the point I was unconscious, this is what healed him in his frustration in understanding purpose, he began to discover control, power, dominants.

He liked it better when I cried, so I decided I wouldn’t cry, I didn’t want to satisfy him anymore, so to back fire on him I would laugh, and laugh when he started kicking my ribs, stomping on my stomach, punching my but only in the jaw so the bruises wouldn’t show. This would go on for 15 minutes to 2 hours until I finally broke. He was always sorry and every time I forgave him and walked home with a sweater in 40 degree Celsius weather to hide the marks that he placed. The one thing that frustrated me is when the school begun to think I was having family issues when I was 12, I was beginning martial arts at the time so that would be my constant accuses. That all I remember in elementary school was the stories I would make up to conceal the true identity of my love.
When I was 13, my first suicidal attempt started from walk out in front of a train when my abuser ‘saved’ me from the pain the shredded metal ripping through my body, he held me down till the train past. He continuously let me know I was everything to him, the scariest point in my life when he put a knife to my throat and said, ‘if I cant have you, no one can.’ I’m not going to go in detail of those 3 year, I try to block them out every day not necessarily regretting it, sometimes I think I deserved it, its funny how a being can change you center of though and belief all by controlling it. How I see it now? We where 2 hurt souls unable to control are feeling, we just expressed it differently…3 years later i finally free.
At this point i didn’t know right from wrong, i constantly twitched when someone would raise there hand and never looked at men in the face. I was told to go to a Councillor on multiple occasions because of my behavior, not bad, but unusual. My thoughts were, ‘what can a Councillor do other than listen to a story I cannot say, a simple pencil and paper can understand your true colors better at times because life at times can only be understood as several shades of grey’. 3 weeks after we broke up he called me 4 times a day; we had to block his number. I don’t know why I still cared for him.
Later down the road I met my my next savior, he was my everything, he showed me how to love again, how to feel… nothing this good last for long though; he left me for his best friend unfortunately, I didn’t blame him ever though, I was damaged and he helped me see a little life again. After that relationship I felt unwanted, that I didn’t deserve to be here…
I had a great family, my mom gave up a lot of life opportunities for us and doesn’t regret a thing. She’s the most amazing women I ever met in my life. My dad, well we had many rough spots in life… me and him experienced a rough patch in the road and didn’t know how to handle it, after my grandpa/his father past awake, we didn’t know how to cope. We began to have a hatred for each other, called each other names and eventually I could handle it anymore. I moved out to be with my love, this lasted for about a month then I came back. I asked my mom if he asked about me, she said no. from that day forward I no longer called him dad for about a year. I know he hated me, sometimes I think he somehow blames me for the death of his father where I sometime back then I wish it was him and not grandpa. I always thought he was a selfish bastard, that’s the way it was unfortunately. It still hurts even today. I hope one day he forgives me, love you dad.
Then I left for school and moved about 3 hours away, where I began a new life in misfortune and disappointment. I went to a party and ended up blacking out, I woke up in a bed with someone I knew but not that well. He carried me home and I guess had sex with me. Month later I found out I was pregnant. I cried for about 2 hours. Made perpetration to get a abortion right away.2 weeks till the abortion I started feeling different, happy. Like I had a purpose, but I didn’t listen. I got the abortion, never told the dad due to he used me… that day I killed part of my life, the best thing I would have had in my life. I killed it. I regret it every day that I killed my own child for my selfish needs… since then, my world was held by a string… I hate myself for it… I wish i could feel something, i feel nothing now, i feel hopeless, lost. I wish i could go back in time and save my child from my self. Because of this i no longer feel love, hope, happiness… death is a more suitable option some days more then others. as the days pass faster and faster the option becomes more clear.