The end…

By this time, like I said previously, my life literally felt as if it was crumbling to pieces.
Ever since that one night, my mother’s “friend” had made a habit of having some sort of sexual activity or sex in itself every night, my mother being “oblivious”.
That summer though, my father decided to move back to my end of the country with his fiancé and her son. I was not that thrilled about it.
For two years, nothing really changed. We had a routine developed and everything was once again as stable as it could be. We moved a few times but that’s it. But then everything changed. I found out my mother was pregnant with that guys child and at first I was happy; I had always wanted a little sibling. But then I came to a few conclusions.
1) I would no longer be the only child, therefore I would also have to start providing care and take on the responsibility of a child.
2) This child is going to grow up in a very unstable and very unhealthy environment which is not fair to the child.
3) This child is going to be a reproduction of a very sick man and may end up the same way as his or her father.
4) I was going to be the only support this child has access to.
5) I will not let this child’s childhood be taken away from them.
Once I realized all of this, I knew I was in way over my head and for the very first time, I tried to kill myself. I had caved for what I thought was the last time and took the easy way out. My plan was flawed though – hence why I am still here – and I did not succeed. Four days before my mother went into labour, herself and the guy got into an incredibly violent fight. It ended with my mother being rushed to the hospital to make sure the unborn child was okay. Thankfully he was, yes, she ended up having a little boy. I was there when my mother had the child, but the guy was not and to say he was a little upset is a very big understatement. For the first month of this young boys life, my mother and his father did not speak. Which really was not a bad thing.
I raised this child because I did not want him to experience the same things I had so I always made sure he was in my care and was not left alone with my mother or that guy. After about a month he moved back in with us and he went back to his old habits of using me. I made a deal with him; if he left his son alone, I would do anything he asked of me, I kept my promise and he kept his. My brother began getting older and still never really had any contact with his parents, he called me his mom and I felt like it. Sure, when I went out to the park with him or something and he said that I got horrible and judgemental looks, but I did not care. He was growing up like a normal child and that was all I had wanted since the beginning.
Things were going as well as they ever had until this last past October. My mother lost in one night and we ended up getting into a fight, it only ended when she kicked me out of the house. I fought so hard to take my brother with me, but she called the cops and put on her “good mother” act, making me seem unstable and seeing as I was only fifteen the police saw it best that my brother stays with my mother and that I go spend some time with my father and his new wife. I screamed as loud as I ever did, I was not ready to lave my brother with that unfit girl called my mother. It took four police officers to get me in a car with my stuff to take me to my father’s house that was two hours away. I fought them the entire time, it broke my heart knowing what could happen to my brother and no matter what I told the officers, they did not believe my stories and thought I was a delusional spoiled brat.
Once I got to my father’s, he thanked the police officers for bringing me here and apologized for my horrible behavior and assured them that I was in good hands. As soon as they left, I knew I was in for it. I ran downstairs to hide in what became my room, but I was not fast enough and that was the night my father hit me harder and longer than he ever had before. He knocked me unconscious and I don’t even think he stopped once I was unconscious. It was not very pleasant.
I began to go back to my old ways. Since I was looking after my brother, I was always so focussed on him that I had no time to go back into my depressive hole or to beat myself up. Without him though, I had all the time in the world to do everything that I used to, but way worse than before. I lost the reason I was fighting to live for.
One fact that I never really touched on was school, I was a bright student and had always done well because I knew that it would be the only way for me to escape. This is the reason that I was able to get into the advanced program at my new school where my father lived. The teachers said they had never seen a child who was so dedicated to school from the beginning like I was, and when they asked me why, I looked straight at them and said, “to escape” those were the only words I spoke to them and they just nodded in understanding. They never asked me question, they just turned the other cheek and never stepped in to help me. But I do not blame them, it is hard to tell the truth from the lies when speaking to a teenager and it does not matter to me now, I have gotten used to the pain and the hits, it pushes me harder.
Aside from school, I have to jobs. I work at Subway and as a waitress at Denny’s, I also volunteer at the hospital on the weekends. I do this for many reasons:
1) It keeps me busy and make it difficult to go into a depressive hole.
2) It brings me happiness and joy.
3) I am saving up to save my brother from that hell on Earth.
4) I am saving up to go to a good school.

I am no longer in a depressive hole, but I do have depressive actions. I still cut myself, I find that very hard to stop doing, I do not eat and when I do, it is a very little amount, and I have nightmares every night, making sleep scarce. I am still struggling but I am fighting to keep going. I need to be here for my brother who is only four years old and is having a really hard time. I have learned many things on my journey. I know that no matter how hard life is, there is always going to be that small glint of hope, and that is what you need to focus on in order to come out on top. I have learned that dwelling on the pain life causes you gets you nowhere and only makes the pain worse, it is no way to win the fight called life. I have also learned that helping others is an amazing way to help yourself, it enables you to feel alive and feel as if you have a purpose in life.
I want to remind everyone who is going through a hard time or has been going through something rough for awhile now, that things will get better, but the only way that they do is if you want them to and you fight for things to get better.

I am here for anyone who need support or just needs someone to listen to them rant. I hope that you realize the potential that you hold. I may not know you if you’re reading this, but I do know that you have something incredible that this world needs to see and experience. You are worth living and you are worth something. Everyone on this planet is capable of doing something good and positive, you just have to make the right choices and not run when live gives you a bad hand.

As I side note, I don’t want anyone to feel as if everyone hates you, because I do not hate anyone. Along this journey called life, I have learned that hate is a stupid emotion, and that you should not hate anything an especially anyone. Everyone believes that what they are doing is the right thing and sometimes others get hurt, but if you show those people love and compassion, they can change their ways and become incredible people.