The Life of the Suicidal Angel by Krazy Krizzie (books to read this summer TXT) 📕

I remember when it happened that my brother, just a year older then me, was in the hospital.. he had been there for nearly a month and would problay be there even longer then that. My momma and baby sister were gone, and i was with my nana and pappy.... My nana was never home, so really in all honesty it was just me and my pappy.. I was three years old, but knew way more then any child should ever know.... I had seen my momma abused and hospitalized due to angry psychotic men she dated and my real dad was never in the picture... i didn't even remember him...
But back to the story.

One morning i woke up naked in my pappy's bed. I swore to god i had fallen asleep in his armchair in the living room.... I yelled and screamed at him, but all he did was throw me against the wall and shove some pill done my throat... I was out cold... I woke up again naked in his bed... I remember screaming again but instead of shoving stuff down my throat he told me to make lunch.. I made macoroni and beanie weenies, stepping on pots and shit to reach the stove. i was freezing cold, for the fact he nveer let me get dressed.

Then he ate with me on his lap and he made me watch the tv.. i didn't know it then, but it was porn... he simply called it grown up stuff and said that we were gonna do that.. I wanted to tell my momma but he punched me in my back, saying to keep your goddamn mouth shut.. I cried and he yanked me up by my arm and lashed at my body with his belt...

Then he threw me on his bed and started touching me and talking to me in ways i didn't understand. but all i knew was there was a lot of blood and i was in so much pain i was screaming... He had done something to me, what the guy did to the girl on the tv. Something my momma said "Nobody should ever touch you in any way that you don't like." i didn't like that. not the blood not the pain. not the confusion.i hated it.

This went on for every day for almost a year and a half i was so confused and scared and the blood stains on my clothes and my panties. the stains in his sheet... The things that my pappy told me... It was so scary and confusing.

Now that i'm older I know what it was... it comes and haunts me in my dreams and my waking hours.. I still have the scars across my legs where he cut me when i wouldn't fulfill his sexual fantasies.. For god's sake I was 3 years old. I never deserved what i got...

But now, i live like i know how, to hide from the pain and to pretend that everythings okay....

When I was five years old, my three year old sister Bri went to California with her dad, leaving Me and my brother in Arkansas....... we had different dadsb but noone ever did tell me why she left or why i couldn't talk to her or anything.... i never saw her after that....

Then me and Christopher endured the abuse and pain and cuts and scars and screaming and fighting and drugs and alcohol and all that shit until we were placed in fostercare.... That was the worst ever thing..... Then about 6months later Christopher died in Fucking children's hospital because our mother and dad were too damn loaded and on some shit to give a flying rats ass..... I didn't know what was going on, but seeing my brother, the only reason i was fucking alive in that mother fuckng hospital bed in so much fucking pain and he couldn't even hear me talk or see me or anything... That killed me.... And then not two fucking hours later, My mom tries to tell me he's dead... My fucking counselors got me a balloon and a pin with A on it for my initial.... that just pissed me off.... My brother was dead goddamn it you really think i want gifts?!!! anyway that's when i turned anorexic... i was only 8 years old... But i would not eat at all... I drank water and crackers maybe once a day, every other day... I went from 8 years old, 115 pounds, to 9 years old 60 pounds in two months, then i was hospitalized for malnutrition, i don't remember alot that happened while i was in the hospital they were force feeding me and trying to talk to me, and shit it just pissed me off and i ignored them..

Well, the only real thing i learned was not to give people a reason to worry about me.... if they thought i was coping decent then i could hide a lot of things... i hid the fact that i burned myself with matches and cigarette lighters, i hid the fact that i hid in the bathroom alot during school so i wouldn't be around people.... i hid everything.... all the pain and suffering and night meares and visions and shit...

Then about 5 months after i was hospitalized for anorexia and malnutrition, i was thrown onto the sidewalk in a really bad hail storm... I broke four plates in my back, and then I was put into a catholic school, where i was promptyly kicked out for fighting and cussing and disruption...

Then In may of 2006 i came back to arkansas and was promptly put up for adoption.. The first foster family i had been with were the ones who got me.. my birth mom was forced to give up her rights.... idk the whole story behind that... but then in fifth grade i met a girl who i fell in love with.. we started dating (yes lesbian couple) then we went to a party and someone did something to her at that party that caused her to spiral into a very deep depression very fast... she was hospitalized twice in a month... Then a month after the party, she committed suicide... i lost the love of my life, and noone will ever replace her....

That's when i started cutting myself some deep some not... I started writing lots of dark emo poetry and got interested in Wicca..... Being able to have some control over my life is all I ever really needed, to be able to love freely without losing everything and everybody that ever truly meant anything at all to me.... To know that no matter what i could push through...

Anyways, as i started gaining back the weight and the cuts got deeper and the burning stopped completely... I met a guy... He was my best friend Ann's brother. I was 11, Ann was 18, and he was 21.... (don't say anything about the ages... age is only a number where as your soul is your true self.. wat i heard anyway.) I met him at a party at Tanya's house. There were tons of people and he's the one who caught me when i fell off the table dancing lol... Well we talked for a long time, then he kissed me. Now i had been kissed before, by my girlfriend who had killed herself... So it was really not that new..... The way he treated me like a girl, and not just a crummy sister's friend appealed to me... I eagerly kissed him back, bathing in the shower of his touch... I felt his hands travel across my body eagerly and i pulled away..

'I barely know you, i don't even know your name.' i told him
'Call me D-ron. but we've talked for hours.'
'About me, not you.'
'Your a beautiful girl and i will wait forever for you.' he told me.. He carried me home and kissed my forehead before he left... Well we talked about everything about both of us and went to parties together and everything, he didn't say anything against the cutting and he held me when i cried... We quickly became best friends, and then we decided it was time to be together....

Well, that changed everything... The next party he took me to was on Halloween, i was 12, almost 13.... After the party,he showed me his cabin in the woods close to my house, (i didn't even think it was strange.) We talked for hours and cleaned up the cabin together.. Someway or another we ended up in his bed, in the most eager, passionate, loving amazing makeout ever imagined... Then he tugged at the bottom hem of my shirt and I let him guide the tight black tanktop off of me... He tugged his jeans off, and i pulled off my skirt. That was the night I lost my virginity....

We started fighting after that, alot... He quickly became more and more violent and I became more and more stubborn... He started to beat me and then we got in a full on fist fight, and he left to go to Missouri.. But he never would stay for long... Every time he got a chance he'd come to Arkansas if only to be with me.. We made love on seven occasions after that first night...

One time, I got pregnant.. It lasted three months, before I got in a fight with a very violent abusive guy, and lost it.. I told everyone I had fallen down a flight of stairs, at my ex sister in law's apartment complex..
Then a few months after that I ended up pregnant again... This time, I tried to be much more careful.. But I couldn't escape the abuse I was getting.. I would cry almost constantly from the emotional pain i was going through. I thought it might be twins, and i couldn't bear the thought of losing my child again... Then i got in a really really horrible fight with a person, and the dark sinister kisses of blood stained my soul forever.. I wrote lots of poetry to try and deal with it but nothing would ever take away this pain.. I was losing my baby a second time....

And I want death, i long for death, i yearn for death. I am the suicidal angel. I ask the gods and goddesses to hear me, to take away the pain to take my life from me... But i know that can't happen. Cuz suicide is pointless if you have no life anyways.

Suicidal Angel
Sometimes I feel murderous, homicidal.
I want people to get what they deserve.
They deserve to die sometimes
But then what about me?
Do I not deserve to die, though?
If I said I did want to die,
They'd put me in a crazy home
And say that I'm suicidal.
But I can't lie either.
People always see through my lies.
So if I lie or even tell the truth,
If they look at me, they'd see the proof.
Look at the scars up my arms and legs
Chest and shoulders. See the scars?
They could find my poetry, my letters
That speak so longingly for death
And read the lines praying for my last breath.
So however you wish to put it.
Here's the silent cry of the suicidal angel.
Me, myself, I am the suicidal angel.

kristen