fourth grade and things didnt get better. People didnt really talk to me and if they did, they never had anything nice to say to me.I constantly got called names; Fatty, little miss piggy, worm (because i had my hair braided and they looked like little worms), four eyes, book worm, slob, ugly etc. I became very drawn back and I started to write poetry. My first poem was called no one cares about me. its a self explanatory poem. the names got to me. they weighted on my heart so much. I became bitter towards the world. I started to get a really bad attitude. I fought back when people called me names. I would go off on a rage and just start hitting them to get them to stop. Didnt work tho. the damage the names did to me had already began. I couldnt take the names no more so I made attempt number 2. I tied a rope around my neck and hung it from the top of the closet. Just as i was about to step off the chair my mom came in. I panicked and told her i was just playing a game and i wasnt going to hurt myself. i couldnt hurt my mother so i got down and when she left I started to cut first on my legs. I liked the feeling of my skin rippin and stinging.
fifth grade came along and i was alright, nothing major happening. I had my razor blade to help block out all the pain. And i had my poetry to keep my calm.