Story of My Life

===I was 7 years of age when I started staring hatred right dead in the eye. This resentment was not towards any broken toy or pot but towards my best friend. He had curly black hair, and he had dark brown eyes that almost looked of a black color. He always had a twisted grin on his face, and faint smile. For I never saw him angry or at least if he was he never showed it to me. He was extremely thin but I always saw him eating, trying to forever fill the deep hunger that dwelled in his stomach. It was a hunger I knew I was unaware of at the time. It was the type of hunger that had it staring at him right in the face with boney fingers and a skeleton rib cage. He was quite short, and he always judged himself for it. I saw him many times, staring into a mirror to insult himself. I was curious as to why he would do this, and I didn't understand how people felt, I would give him a hug as to try and settle the burning fire within him. He was always kind to me, whenever he hurt me he would always instantly try and help me. He once pushed a bottle of bleach against my lip while we were playing a game, he pushed it with such force it had busted my mouth. I saw a thick black gash on my lip, but I was numb to the pain for I had been hurt many times. blood had trickled down my chin which made him spring instantly into action. He dragged me into the bathroom and he washed my lip with soapy water. He dried my lip and placed a band aid on my lip to conceal the scars that had been made. " Is that better Jess?" he asked me. I nodded my head and I felt comfort in him, never before had I ever felt such a great bond with another human being. I became dependent on him, and to a small extent I fell in love with him. I felt a passion for him and I wanted to be around his warm smile every second of the day. I felt comfort in him. Since he had lived far, when he came to visit I was overjoyed and I would run up to him to see if he wanted to play a video game with me. when he visited that year for Christmas eve, I had noticed he was no longer smiling and it frightened me. I had no money so I couldn't buy him anything, when he asked where his present was I simply looked to the floor and frowned. He made a small laugh at this and he forgot completely about it. He took my hand and led me into his grandmas bedroom, we played there for hours. I was so overcome with joy I thought I might burst. We played with imaginary animals and people, we dressed as if we were royalty by wrapping bed sheets around our waists. It wasn't long after when I saw a new smile appear on him. He had found a new hunger, and this time it wasn't for food. He had stopped playing, and told me to close my eyes and go sit on the bed. I trusted him with my life, and I had done exactly as he told me. I sat on the bed with my eyes closed and my hands shaking uncontrollably because of a nerve condition I had when I got excited or anxious. He had walked over to me and sat next to me. I felt his weight next to me, he pushed my hair to my right side. He put his hand on my cheek and he kissed me. My eyes opened up, and I was shocked beyond belief. I did love him, but I had no desires to become inmate with him in any way. He wanted to kiss me again, but I refused. He pressured me into it making a feast of lies. He had pushed me into a closest and kissed me exactly 3 times. Kissing wasnt disgusting to me but it was far from anything I desired. I had thought the kissing would satisfy the longing within him instead it only made it worse, I was naive to desire for the only thing I would want was an extra cookie at dessert time. This new desire was something I never seen before and it terrified me. He spoke to me about sex but the was he explained it was beyond the way I could think of things. My definition of sex ended up turning to something disgusting. I thought it was women who were forced to do what the men wanted for they could please him. After he said his sickening speech, he touched my breast. I had a small turn in my stomach, I knew deep inside what he was doing was wrong but I couldn't understand why. I spoke up and told him not to do that, when he asked me why he shouldn't I had no answer. He continued to touch me in my Virginia and my breast every time we saw each other. When I turned 8 years old, he had to resort to other means to keep my mouth shut. I understood the world much better, watching media showed me what he was doing is wrong. My turning in my stomach became more violent and my love for him was deforming into other emotions. I was a Christian and I was taught to love my enemies, I never thought it would be hard to love my friend. " you know.. when I grow up I want to join a gang... and if you tell anyone I will find you as an adult, I will then rape you" he told me. I didn't know what rape meant, and I pronounced it wrong and said "Pape". When he saw this didn't work he then said "I have a knife and I will kill your dad if you tell him" my parents were divorce and I wasn't sure he was even aware I had a mom since he never met her. I became more aggressive as time past. I didn't know where all this anger was coming from, I was always the " sweet " girl in school, which is why everyone was shocked when I scratched the school bully. I instantly regreted  it even though it was just a little cut, it meant the world to me. I cried in the classroom. My teacher was always kind to me, whenever I cried she would give me a piece of candy. I would save these candies in my desk for future use, just in case I ever got hungry at my moms house. I would always get hungry while at my moms, and I often found myself stealing any food I could find around the house to eat. Whenever I was caught eating anything I would be punished by my step dad. My step dad signed me up for material arts as for means to protect myself. I loved being able to fight and not get in trouble for it. It helped me keep calm when the school bully would tie me up to throw me around. it helped me keep calm when my step dad would yell at me. And it help me keep calm, when I was touched in private parts by my friend. No one could see the tell tale signs of my pain, I felt stronger and I thought I could handle anything. on halloween, I craved a pumpkin with my cousin, I was happy. Until she left the room to use the bathroom. I sat facing a sliver blade, it was a butcher knife. I saw eyes staring down on me and they were unholy ones. I picked up the knife with my right hand and placed it on my heart. My hand began to shake, so I placed my left hand on the handle to keep it stable. I was overjoyed, all my pain would be over in seconds. I heard whispers from the devil for the first time in my life. I took a deep breath and nodded my head to prepare for the pain. until I heard a flush from the bathroom, I quickly placed the knife back on the table and stayed in a daze like trance. I looked at the grim reaper we were craving in the pumpkin, and slightly bowed my head. "My soul isn't for the taking not yet" I said under my breath for my cousin couldn't hear. " What's the matter little punk?" my cousin asked me. " I'm just cold" I said. When she heard this she took her jacket off and she put it on me. I gave her a hug and said thank you. She offered me an apple, I accepted it but bit too hard and the apple flew out of my mouth and hit the disgusting floor. " is the apple dead?" I asked my cousin." yes, you killed it I can hear its screams of agony" she said. " Really?" I asked. " No" she responded. I began to carve the pumpkin again, I saw deaths skeleton features appear with each stab into the orange flesh. === ===<span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:13px;">When new years eve came I found myself with the boy I hated once more. He was much taller by this point. As he had done his usual routine of leading me into the bedroom. I had a hope, that may be today he had changed and he would be my friend again, but it was just a fantasy. He laid himself, on the bed and told me about masturbation, he told me that he imagined his dream girl having sex with him, and it became a addiction to him. I wondered why he was doing this to himself, in many forms I didn't know what sex meant. He made weird movements that I couldn't understand at the time. The violent turning in my gut was spreading and beginning to turn itself into one solid emotion. In a strange way I still loved him. In others I hated him. <span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:13px;">He then got off the bed and picked me up and placed me on the bed. He then wanted me to masturbate, but I refused. I kept shaking my head. He looked at me seriously and said "  Its good for you, and if you do it I won't touch you anymore". <span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:13px;">At this statement, I laid on the bed like he did; however I found I couldn't do it. I tried to muster every thought I had to do what he asked me to do. He seemed surprisingly happy I couldnt do it. " Well I'm just going to have to touch you forever then". he said. I sobbed and begged him to please stop. I got off the bed and started to cry in front of him, he simply looked at me dumbfounded because I had never cried around him. <span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:13px;">He let me come off the bed, and he brushed away my years. My cheeks were stained with icy cold tears, that now showed the many follies of my feelings. Thus his kindness that came out at most random times, was the thing that kept me from running my mouth off about his deeds. Since I was also told by everyone I was the strange child, I figured this is how all young boys must act, and I was simply an outcast. === <span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:13px;">When I was 10- 11 years old. I was sent away with this boy on family vacations. At the time I was also reading Dracula, and I loved it. The main character in the first few chapters was trapped in a castle with Dracula, and no matter what the main character couldnt escape, this led him to kill himself. I felt like that character I felt I was trapped with a monster, and if I spoke the people I love wouldnt be able to handle it, nor would they be safe. When on vacations, whenever we were alone in the pool, he would try to take off my bathing suit; or if he was really mad with me he would try to drown me, but he would always back out of it just before I can't take it anymore.

<span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:13px;">When I was 13-14, I started cutting myself as it stands the scars still remain. This year I told my parents about the boy, and I have never seen him again. However scars cant be erased, no matter how hard you try.

<span style="color:rgb(34,34,34);font-family:arial,sans-serif;font-size:13px;">Authors note- Hello ^^ This is really what happened, if you wanna judge my choices I made then go ahead ^^ personally, I think I made wrong choices. Not all the details are in here, i choose what was either too painful to put on here or was boring to leave out. Keep in mind this is written on memory. Memory isnt dependable. I would like to thank everyone on the wiki, because you guys saved my life :)