Lit On Fire

i want to curse at god for allowing my brother to light me on fire. and for allowing my dad to say things like

i hope you're happy you fucked up fucking...

he said that because i unlocked my door and went out of my room to get poison for a spider that was literally attacking me, like my brother always attacks me. my dad just stood there cursing and swearing at me while my brother threw me with pencils and darts, sprayed me with deodorant and lit me on fire, cut me with a steel knife. then he started digging through my personal possessions. you know tyler clementi? i'm so fucking jealous of him. but do any of you out there have ANY! IDEA! what hell it is to be exposed like that? you feel so vulnerable. i once watched a movie about world war 2. i think. anyway, the captives had to shit in buckets and then they had to empty their buckets into a huge vat that kept all the shit for one "lucky" captive. imagine having a few hundred people's shit poured onto you in a room where a few hundred millionaires are standing, laughing at you. oh. i forgot to add. the captives were all naked. they were stripped bare and raped repeatedly.

sound fun?

that's pretty much the hell i go through on a daily basis. not the shit or the rape. but nose mucus, blood, spit. dirty water. like...water so dirty you can't see through it. the kind of water that mosquitoes live in. and that's not half of the hell i go through.

when sonnette de beer stole my diary and exposed EVERY INTIMATE DETAIL ABOUT MY EXISTENCE to the world... when tyler's roommate posted that vid on the internet... you have no idea why he jumped and why i wish i had it in me to jump. and almost every night my brother tries to read my diary. he hits me and pushes me through windows just to get his hands on it. and here's a promise. the day he reads my diary WILL BE THE DAY THAT I KILL MYSELF, COMMIT SUICIDE, TAKE MY LIFE, END MY SUFFERING. there. now it's promised in four different ways.

all you people out there, offering support... i am mad. you don't have the slightest clue what life is like for people like me. not that i don't appreciate you. i do. really, truly, honestly i do. FUCK! UR THE REASON IM ALIVE! but i do not want to live.

this

isn't

life.

my back hurts so badly because of my brother that i can barely move at night and in the mornings it takes me an hour to used to the pain so that i can get up. it's been that way for a few weeks. my back i mean. it's not getting better. he keeps hurting it so the pain won't go away. it feels like one of my organs or a few of my ribs are just missing. there aren't words for the pain.

this is my answer... well, a part of my answer so question

why would you want to kill yourself.

why did you try to kill yourself.