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I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. I've been thinking all night...

I'm sorry about the cutting...

I'm not a good person, I never have been, and never will be. My mistakes will always follow me. I'm- I'm just a sensitive person, I'm a baby, but I can't do much to change it without going back to my jerky phase.

I'm just hoping to get out of this hellish school soon. I just need to make it through the next two years, then I'll be free to go to college and leave this place. I don't have a home. If the statement "home is where the heart is" then my heart is stranded on an island.

"B-BALLOON, UPSTAIRS NOW!" I hear my mom scream, she sounds drunk as usual. The last time I obeyed that command...

B-bad things happened...

I put my chair under the door handle to block it, hearing her keep yelling. Things quiet down a bit, and I resume thinking.

That's when she starts pounding on my door and cursing. I tense up and it's gets loud enough to where I think the doors gonna break.

I grab my pillow and shove it out of the tiny window above my bed.

Pound, pound, pound...

I try to get as many things into my backpack as quickly as possible, my phone, my charger, toothbrush, toothpaste, a few snacks, my depression pills, and some other random items I threw in during the rush.

Pound, pound, pound...

I crawl out the window and run away into the chilling darkness, my cheeks glistening from the moonlight hitting the silent tears. The pounding grows fainter as I go farther...

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