A Tale Of Blood Throughout My Life

1383 Words Oct 6th, 2015 6 Pages
A Tale of Blood
Throughout my life, I have never really been able to place my trust in many people. I have always been avoiding them, as if they were the plague. Yet, over the last few years, I have been forced into many different situations that I never truly enjoyed being in. I tried my best to ignore them, and hope that they would go away. But, alas that never happened. I was content with this never ending cycle of situations that forced me to act differently than who I knew I was. Situations that pushed my emotional limits further than I had ever wanted them to go. But, it never seemed to be enough for me. I remember the first time I started to take a knife to my skin, and how it felt. I remember exactly how I felt afterwards and how I started to crave it. I knew it wouldn 't be the last time that I would damage a part of myself just to feel some sort of emotional release.
When I was younger, maybe just a little younger than ten, things between my family were getting rather heated. My mother had had enough of my father, and his laissez-faire attitude towards my brother and I. She had kicked him out the house and had taken to drinking her problems away, so much so that she took a six month sabbatical from work just to sort out her problems. No one really paid much attention to me, and I was exhausted with how they had acted. Never truly acting like the adults they were supposed to be. My brother and I were being
constantly…
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