The time I hated the most, 17:48 or simply 5:48 pm. It is a house but not a home. Call it mercy but it is not love. It is a family but doesn't feel like one. I only matter when 17:48. No one ever needed me, no one ever know me. No one did, no one ever bothered.
At a very young age my father left me. My mom became addicted to gambling and drinking. My step-father molested me at the age of seven. My older brother physically abuse me every single time that is possible. I've been bullied at school and I am friendless. I attempted to commit suicide atleast a couple of hundred times, but those stupid doctors always find ways to keep me alive. My ex-boyfriend raped me. The school principal took advantage of me just to keep me in school. By the age of 16 I already experienced all these mishaps.
House is like a living hell for me. Everyday after school, I'd rather go to this place I call my home than going to that house. This place give me warmth and not bruises. This place that make me feel accompanied and protected, not just being a s*x toy. This place that I can consider my home. All the comfort vanishes when 17:48 come. My phone does not stop ringing unless I go to that house. 17:48 must be the call of hell for me. But that must change. I can finally be in this place eternally. This is the last 17:48 that they will be bothered to call me. This must be the last 17:48 that I will hear my phone rings. The last 17:48 that i will shed my tears. Must be the last 17:48 I will feel my pain. The last 17:48 I am broken like shards of glasses. The last 17:48 that you'll get a glimpse of me. All I need is this rope and chair, I can finally say "I'm home".
Author Notes: This is not my real life story but I've experienced those episodes of depression. If life is giving up on you, then don't give up on it.