I Woke up to Amnesia

3

It wasn't over.

I kept hitting myself at times and felt no regret.

I felt like I deserved it. I'm going insane slowly.

It was about 9:00, the third to last day of summer break.

I didn't feel like sleeping so I decided to grab a lamp that sat silently on a white shelf.

I rummaged through my backpack looking for a spare pencil and an eraser.

I walked back and flipped into a page.

My brother soon followed along.

He looked energetic.

We layer down on the living room floor since our room was hot from the hell temperature from the day.

I started to hear my mom talking. About me.

My brother muttered along.

"Why is your sister such a boy."

I was switched up to a mode I didn't like.

"Well, because the girly-girl style sucks! It's the twenty first century."

My mom stood up watching me as I drew.

"You don't talk to me like that!"

"Well, you talk about me in a really messed up manner, I think you deserve it."

She got up and tried to snatch my sketchbook.

Heck no.

I pulled back and tried making her lose grip.

"I'm gonna slap you if you don't let go!!"

"I don't care."

She let go.

"So you like pain?"

"Yes."

"Well, you're a boy. That's weird and annoying."

I tried suffocating that night. I had put the covers over my body.

I eventually fell asleep at 4:00am.