A child that has been mentally bullied and raped may fall into depression. Who would’ve thunk that? Well, apparently no one.
My mom was there. I called her to come and help me but she didn’t do anything. Why didn’t you do anything? You could have saved me then and you could have saved me now.
You too, big brother. You’ve been there in your room, ignoring the screaming, turning your music up so you don’t have to do anything.
Dad, you’re excused. You were at the office all day. That’s not the best way to raise a child but you had to make some income, and I guess you trusted mom to care for me.
And so we get to mom again. That’s not my big brother’s job to care for me. That’s my mother’s job. She decided to be fucked without protection the third time.
I guess she was too exhausted to raise a third child. Maybe I was a mistake even. I feel like a mistake. If I wasn’t here from the beginning everything was better. I promise.