It's been 6 weeks since I was put in the padded room and now I guess you could say I'm free, though I'm still in the asylum. I wish I could leave but I know it's safer if I'm here but I want to see my boyfriend and my friends, if anyone remembers me. My only problem is that I've been trapped here for months, I've died on the inside and I feel like no one cares anymore.
I missed my little sister's birthday, and that's never happened before. Ever since she was born, her big sister (aka. me) has always been there. when she'd end up with a bobo, I kissed it better. When she started school I was on the bus with her. When this older boy started bullying her, I was the one to beat him up. When dad left, I held her every night as she cried. When mom started to drink her pain away, i was the one to shield her from mom's flying beer bottles. I love her to death and I can't believe our mother didn't bring her to see me. Well actually I can, but the fact mom would stoop that low, cuts deeper than any blade ever could.
