Imogen...

"...IT’S YOUR FAULT!! YOURE NOTHING YOURE WORTHLESS… NOONE WOULD EVER LOVE YOU!!"

…It was always the same, every day! No one ever cared how I felt, everyone wanted me to be somebody else, Act differently, and look differently. They just down right hated me, I started hating me.

My mum and her junky of a boyfriend hated me. Every day was the same… literally. I would get home from a miserable day at school. No friend, No life, Nothing. I walk through the door, Bruises on my arms, my makeup smudged from crying…

Mum would ask me how I got the holes in my uniform. I would always say I fell through a fence on the way home. I would always lie. The truth, the girls in the older years used to beat me, Over and over. But now I’m free…

We could never afford new uniforms so I went to school every day in the same tatty uniform. I used to be terrified of going outside because they would wait for me at the bus stop, those girls. But being outside was always better than being home with my mum and her boyfriend this is their entire fault.

Craig was alright I suppose. Until mum made him mad, he always hit her. I tried to shut it out by turning my music up loud, but it disturbed the neighbours, so I just sat on my bed and cried til he passed out 'cause he was drunk most the time.

I never understood why mum was with Craig. Sometimes he even hit me, but she never once cared. If it wasn’t Craig hitting me, it was her! You may wonder why I lived there, with everyone looking down on me, judging me, abusing me. The answer is; I don’t even know why. Sometimes I would think that everyone would just be happier if I were gone…

I was failing all subjects at school. I had no money. Sometimes when mum had parties at home, I was forced out of the house. I was only 10 years old when my mum pulled an all-nighter, partying from 7 to 5, and I was locked out of the house all night til 6 am. I couldn’t remember much from that night all I remembered was walking down the street and collapsing on the footpath from not eating in days. This is where he found me. Stickz.

10 years old. I still remember the first time I had it. Ice. Stickz said it would make all the hurt go away. I believed him for a while... I hate to admit it to people, but he's the only person who ever believed me about my mum and school and stuff. Teachers didn’t. My older sister didn’t. Even the police didn’t.

After I took it my whole life was a haze… all that I knew is that it did more harm than good. Since then my life had been getting worse and worse. From shop lifting, criminal records, multiple bruises, Cuts all up my arms from when I couldn’t stand the fighting anymore. I had unexplained pains all over my body from when I would pass out from all the alcohol. Even when I was doing all this, mum still didn’t even look at me. The real me. The me I had become.

Three years later, since my first ever drug encounter, Stickz still gave me it every week. Sometimes I would wake up in the hospital. I heard doctors saying that I've been in there for days, sometimes even weeks. They tell me my stomach had just been pumped. They would call my mum, but she was never home to pick me up so I would give them Stickz’ number. He would always be there for me, unlike my mother... she was too busy getting pissed and getting herself beat up cause she is a stupid slut.

It should’ve been her. Not me.

I’m writing you this as proof that I was unhappy. I’m not attention seeking. I’m not overreacting either. My life WAS hell on earth… but now imp in the one place I belong, the real thing, I’m in hell bitches and there is nothing you can do about it. I hated my life. I hated my family. I hated me. But now I’m truly happy; I’m truly happy looking up to the suffering I have caused you all. The only person I will miss is Stickz. He has and always will be my best friend. He will always be in my slowly dying heart. So you can all go to hell. I HATE YOU!

Goodbye.
Imogen…

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