Kitabı oxu: «No Other Choice»

This story is dedicated to all victims of violence.
PREFACE: I AM A VICTIM

Being a victim is a mix of all kinds of different feelings. You feel yourself miserable, scared, stupid, weak, and disgusting. All emotions are vague and you cannot distinguish even the vividest difference.

No matter what victim you are.

A victim of domestic abuse.

A victim of sexual assault.

A victim of physical dominance.

A victim of bullying.

A victim of child abuse/neglect.

A victim of hate crimes.

A victim of people/sex trafficking.

A victim of terrorism.

And I must forget to mention many other types of victims.

I’m sorry for all of you. Truly sorry. However, let’s not forget that we have one another. We are actually all the same. We need help. We need family around. We need to be loved. I know that most of us don’t have it, so why don’t we all be the most lovely family in the whole universe. We are all capable of giving true love. We all know how the other person may feel. We all know each other at some point. Let’s not wait when our past abusers change, let’s be loved right away.

If you know a person who experiences abuse in his/her life, do not stay aside and help. You know what it is to feel that pain. It’s crucible and unbearable. Those people deserve to be treated well.

I want you to know as well that we believe you. We believe each word of yours. We believe each action of yours. Don’t be afraid to tell us your story because we know that your story is the right one.

Please, I’m begging you, don’t be afraid to ask for help because only you are capable of breaking that vicious circle.

Amen.

Lessons I learned from my family:

I learned that in order to get love and appreciation you need to cook, clean the house, wash dishes, and not show emotions.

Passing out is the best way to escape.

Learn morse code and how to unlock locks without a key.

Go to the gym to be strong.

Upper body strength is the most important strength.

No one cares about your dignity.

Meditate, it's the least you can do for yourself.

Don’t judge people, you don’t know their story.

It’s OKAY to be alone.

You can come back from rock bottom.

Domestic violence can take many forms.

A shelter is more than just a place to stay.

Finding someone to talk to is vitally important.

You cannot change them.

Don’t talk about your feelings with them.

Have a plan. Always.

Try to get into college.

Don’t listen to them.

It’s not your fault.

You don’t have to be a good girl, but it would be helpful.

CHAPTER ONE: CONFESSION

Good evening, guys. Or morning. Or afternoon. My name is Wrat Walker. Never have I ever heard a name uglier than mine. I have been living in Scranton, PA my whole life. My life always gave me miserable and challenging tasks. Beginning with family and ending with the job. Honestly, I didn’t handle them well. Destiny punched me in the face hundred and hundred times. And I just accepted it. I can’t say that I’m hard-working, conscientious, and so on. I was born in a family where the annual income was less than $4000. Imagine yourself. In a family where nobody cares about you. Neither mom nor dad. Thus, I feel like I can blame my parents for my ending-up place. Warning. You will either understand me and accept my actions or consider me insane and be happy for what I’ve got.

The first thing I want to say is that I’m writing this book for relief. I want to tell my stories to someone but I can’t. I’m so fed up with my family that I wanna kill each of them. And I will. I promise. When you finish reading this “book”, they’ll be all already dead. And I will be in jail because I committed those crimes and I must be punished. I’m a good citizen and respect the law. But also I didn’t wanna be a fraud like my family. I am not a coward. I am eager to possess all the virtues of a good man, so I am willing to begin with honesty.

Each chapter’s gonna be about each member of this messed-up family. Each chapter’s gonna end with the way I murdered them. I hope it’ll give you some food for thought. Maybe you will even come up with interesting ideas on how to murder annoying-you people. And last but not least, I know that there are even worse families than mine and that people suffer worse and so on. I know it. And I know that I’m not special nor unique. And I know that I’m not the main character as well as you. Let’s be honest. So just feel free to enjoy this life and kill those who bug you. But be careful with your choices and know that punishment will chase you if you do not come clean.

CHAPTER TWO: MOTHER

Meet Her

This is the worst part of my life. My dear mother. She drives me crazy. I can’t even describe it in words. Or maybe it’s just because I’m illiterate and never got a chance to learn English properly. This book I wrote with a dictionary by the way. So much hate I hold in myself for this human. It’s not a woman. It’s a literal snake that day by day eats your brain and soul, and nervous system.

Her name is Mia Walker. She is 56 years old, was born in my hometown, works as a cashier, is a heavy smoker, abuser, and for sure has a bunch of mental problems, including schizophrenia. She wasn’t diagnosed but if she had had the chance to live longer, she would have been diagnosed for sure. My mommy didn’t achieve anything. You clearly can see it because all her personal background fits in three sentences. She didn’t get into college for the first time, the second time, and the third time. Appreciation for trying. Her biggest accomplishment is being a clean freak. I know what I’m saying. She’s really proud of this title. She finds her worth in this and definitely wants everyone around her to be just like her. Irrational, right? She doesn't think this way. Mia seriously rates everyone by their cleanliness. And will judge you if you’re not like her. It’s actually really weird considering her lifestyle.

She’s a smoker. A heavy one. But listen, she is insecure about her age. I know that a lot of old people are concerned about this and they want to be young, and so on. But she smokes a lot. And when I said it, I meant it. Honey, how do you expect to look good when you smoke like a chimney? It's out of any basics of logic. But I’m not a bitterly resentful kid when a mommy didn’t give me candy. No more objective adjectives. I want to speak in a language of facts. So here we are. I wanna tell you the first situation that inflated my hate towards Mia Walker. Please, hear me out. Educate yourself on the topic of domestic abuse. Every 4th person is abused in some kind of way. It’s not just a story of my life. It’s a story of every 4th person on this planet.

Don’t You Ever Dare To Lie

I was 8 years old. It’s been 9 years since I hold this memory. I perfectly remember every single detail from that day. If you can relate to me, I’m sorry. Understand you. It sucks. But we have to handle these problems if we want to be successful, right? We don’t need mommy issues as well as daddy issues. But the problem is I’ve already got them. Nothing in my control anymore. I’ve got so many problems because of this person. And something tells me that it’s not okay to enjoy my life only if my parents are out of my sight. But let’s already start with a problem.

Have you ever been to any sport/hobby clubs? Parents love to send their kids there. But not mine. I always begged them to send me to Art School, Music School, and so on. We had money. Enough money to live well. We are middle class. Not impressive and obviously not the reason to show off. But, damn, they didn’t wanna spend a single penny on their own children. I, 7 years old, begged my mom to send me to basketball. It lasted over 8 months. And finally, they did it. I turned 8 and was so happy like I got a ticket to Disneyland. So a friend of mine and I went to our first training. Her mom escorted us. And, honestly, it was awesome. I still love basketball, and I guess I would still play if I wasn’t 5’2. Are you kidding, God? It’s like the minimum height. No space to get lower. So obviously I wasn’t that appreciated in those whole situations but I was a kid that didn’t care about anyone’s opinion.

We actually wanted to do basketball only because of the fact that we would be able to skip school due to competitions. Spoiler: I’ve never been to a single competition. But don’t worry. I was okay. It’s not the last reason to cut myself.

I don’t want to beat around the bush anymore. So read carefully, maybe you’ll think that it’s not a reason to kill your mom. If you think so, I will cut your throat. Literally. No one has the right to beat a child. You are a grown-up. You are several times bigger than me. You are several times older than me. Shame on you, freak. I’m sorry if you can’t find an equal rival and is willing to beat a kid who can’t even handle her own emotions due to age. But it did not bother you because you are a psycho, fake mother. Damn, I still beat around the bush but I’m trying to make you even more curious. Have no idea if I did because, again, I’m not a writer.

Winter

December 10

Wednesday

I even remember the day of the week. Impressive, isn’t it? I know. I remember every day when my mom beat me in a new way. Special days.

That day I was in my room with my sister, doing homework. The doorbell rings. I’m going to see who is there. Trying to look in a peephole. Mommy. Mommy with a right hand in gypsum. You will find out later how I remembered which hand. I open her door. See her crying and do not know what to do.

“Is everything okay?”, I asked.

“Don’t ya see?”, she answered as I was drunk and couldn’t notice her.

“Why did you freeze? Bring those bags in the kitchen.”

I take the bags. They are heavy. Sister comes to help me.

“What happened mommy?”

“Try to think logically. There is ice-crusted ground outside.”

I was so naive. I thought she just talked with me. But she just laughed and after that made jokes about me. Jokes about what? About my curiosity?

“You slipped on the ground,” I said and tried to hold back tears.

At that moment she hit me in the head. I was used to it. Nothing special. But this hit showed that she certainly slipped on the ground. I laughed after that. A grown-up woman slipped on the ground. Can’t you look at what you are stepping on? Thought my curious head.

Hitting wasn’t even the worst problem. The worst problem was that I had to take care of her because of her broken arm. Others refused to do it and I had no choice. I had to cook, clean, vacuum, dress her, wash her hair. I hated her and all this stuff. My school and homework did not bother her. How was I supposed to do all this stuff when I was 8 years old? I did not know how to ride a bike. What did you then expect me to cook? Ravioli? If I made a mistake, she would hit me. If I said something wrong, she hit me. She hit me every single day. I wish I had had a tumor because of this. I would have died and no more suffering. I was 8 when I had those thoughts in my head.

That day I had practice at 4:00 AM. I packed my backpack and waited for my friend to call me while my mom was doing something noisy with some man in another room. Did my mommy think that I was not hearing anything? Did she think that I was 2 years old and would not remember it? She was moaning and screaming so hard. It wasn’t my dad. She cheated on him all the time. And beat me each time after cheating so that I don’t tell my dad. It’s her way of coping with the immoral actions she performed. Some people go to psychologists but she chose this option. I was little and had no idea why she was beating me because of what she did.

So practices, in order to escape hell, were my dream as soon as I got home from school.

This time I was even happier to get out of the apartment.

When I reached the spot where my friend and I always meet together, I was thirty-five minutes earlier. So I had to wait. It was winter. Minus fifteen degrees. Extremely cold, considering that I didn’t have a winter coat. I was wearing that spring coat for 3 years. It was a bit small for me and definitely not for that day’s weather. Lucky me, she came ten minutes earlier. But she wasn’t alone. As she told me, she came with an excellent idea. This idea was to skip basketball practice. I, as a kid who had never before even had thoughts about it, was shocked. How dare you skip basketball practice.

“But we wanted to skip school because of basketball! You don’t think clearly!”, I said.

“Yes, I know our plan! I wanted to skip only today's practice. Nobody is going to find out. We’re gonna go to the cafe instead. What do you think?”, she enthusiastically answered.

“I don’t know. It’s too risky. I don’t want my mom to beat me because of this.”

“She won’t beat you because she’s not going to know it. Nobody will tell her!”

“Are you sure?”

“Like never before!”

I agreed. I don’t know exactly why. I just thought that it would be extremely cool to go to the cafe on a weekday. I had no money though.

So we went to a local cafe and when we took off our clothes and the waitress came to us to take an order, only then I said that I had no money. My friend had some, but it wasn’t enough to order anything for two people. We apologized and left the cafe.

“Why didn’t you take the money?”, my friend asked.

“Because I am supposed to be practicing!”

“Don’t you have pocket money for situations like these? My parents always give me money if I urgently need something.”

“Sorry but no. They don’t give me money at all. Mom said that I should earn my own money already.”

“But you are in third grade.”

Cool, isn’t it?

“She doesn’t care.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s rather buy hot tea on the street. I’m sure we have enough money for two cups.

So we bought two cups of super hot tea. Want to say ahead, I don’t like tea. I hate it. But I didn’t wanna upset my friend because she was buying it, not me, and being mean and picky is bad.

I actually didn’t drink it. I split some tea each time she turned away.

But it was a good day. Definitely. I don’t spend much time with my friends because my mom doesn’t let me, so I really appreciated this opportunity.

When I got home, mom was in her room, lying in the bed. I said hi and went to my room. In a minute she called me. I was terrified. She could beat me again because I was too loud with my books.

“How was your practice?”

“Good.”

“What did you do?”

“We were practicing different techniques-”

“You weren’t at practice. You lying. Your coach called me. You didn’t show up.”

“Mom, I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. Please. It will never, I swear, will never happen again.”

“I don’t believe you.”

She stood up and my heart just tore apart into many pieces. But I didn’t run. I stood there ‘cause I know that if I had run, It would have been worse.

She grabbed my hair and with all her strength threw me on the floor, pulling me to the front door. And started beating me with her hand in gypsum. That’s how I remember which hand was broken. By the way, it was painful as never before. Roughly twenty times in the head and way more in the stomach, hands, legs. She repeated something like “For what we spend our money? You know how much money you waste. Bitch. Asshole. Slut. (Slut in 8 years old).”

Then she was hitting the door with me. And then threw me out of the apartment. The door closed. I thought my dad was at work and when he came back he would open the door. But he actually was at home. He heard everything and didn’t help me out. I was able to get home in the morning when he went to work. And instead of daddy’s love, I got a big smack in the face. Crying I got in and, lucky me, mommy was sleeping. I packed a backpack, changed my clothes, and went to school. WIthout breakfast because there was no food at home.

No Escape

I don’t want to get into details of my “poor” childhood. I honestly feel like I had a lot of reasons to kill her. This and previous stories are just the most highlighted. Maybe tearful at some point. And I don’t want you guys to feel compassionate towards me but I doubt you are going to do that.

Anyways, situations like the previous, perhaps less severe, have happened on a daily basis. I was so sick of all of it. I was a child. I wanted happiness and childhood, and my parents’ love. Why does a mommy, who gave birth, didn’t sleep, didn’t get an abortion, want her own child to suffer that much? And it is not just about me. Over millions and millions of children get treatment like mine. Worse or a bit better. One question still is not answered “ Why then did you keep kids if you hate them so much? It’s stupid.”

The second huge TOP-reason why I killed my mother is below. But I want to point out the fact that everyone is different, and different situations are perceived differently. So you maybe won’t agree with me but it’s okay. That’s all.

It happened in the summer of 2017 when I was 16. Those days were literal hell. My mom, my dad, sister, and two brothers were at home. Agnes was 7, Steve was 17, and Elon was 36. Elon decided to spend a summer with us but rather he didn’t. I didn’t and still don’t love any of them. I’ll tell you why in the next chapters. Right now it’s all about the woman that against my wish pushed me out of her body. Let’s be gentlemen.

I was always a rebellious girl. I like it about myself. But unfortunately, I had to get rid of this trait. She didn’t like when I was curious, adventurous, and so on.

That day on August 13th I ate the last piece of bread and didn’t wash my one plate. How ridiculous it didn’t sound, it cost me a lot.

Where to begin? Let’s come back two days earlier. August 11th. Mom’s vacation ended. She went to work, and I was the happiest person in the world. Just imagine spending all the days with your mommy ‘cause you have no friends to go out with. My friend with whom I went to basketball did not want to have anything to do with me anymore. I guess you know why. But the happiness wasn’t too long. She came back in 3 hours, crying and screaming. I was frustrated. I didn’t want to ask her what happened and I didn’t. But the situation became worse. She didn’t go to work the following day and the day after the following day. As I found out later, she quit the job, or better to say she was fired because the manager made a remark. It drove her insane and she started screaming, breaking stuff around, and attacked a couple of customers.

How did I find it out? I went to that shop to buy some groceries and the manager said that I’m not welcome here and it’s better to leave. I asked why and he told me the story. I was super disappointed and furious. I wanted to throw up but it wouldn’t have changed my status in that store.

When I came back, my emotions were on the highest level. I started yelling at my mom. Don’t make me bad in this story. I was yelling because I was the only one who had the job. A 16-year-old girl will take care of herself and her family. Steve didn’t work, even though we were the same age and live in the same freaking house. Elon had a job but he didn’t help us. He just loved spending summer with us ‘cause he didn’t have to pay his own bills. But it’s not our topic right now.

When I was yelling at my mom, I regretted it 100500 times. She became insane, I swear. She took the knife under her pillow and wanted to stab me. Lucky me, I ran away and closed myself in my and my siblings’ room. Not lucky me, in the room, was Steve. He didn’t care that mom was with a knife. We all knew that she loved Steve and wouldn't hurt him. I begged him not to open the door but he was bigger and stronger than me. Steve hit me three times in the head so that I almost passed out and did open the door…

When I saw Mia, I eventually passed out.

I woke up, as I then found out, 9 hours later. All in bruises, cuts, with mind-blowing headache, stomach ache, and toothache. It was August 13th. Almost midnight. Everyone was sleeping and I was in the corner, sobbing and cursing my life. I didn’t eat enough or even I can say at all for three days. So obviously I went to the kitchen to find even something small. My metabolism slowed down a long time ago, so I didn’t need a lot of food. I was extremely happy when I found a piece of bread and some butter in the fridge. It was everything we had. I swear I enjoyed that ‘sandwich’ for 10 minutes. Small bites and careful chewing. Then I went to bed and was woken up at 12 AM.

My mom hollered at Agnes. She thought that the youngest one had eaten bread. Agnes was crying and mom started beating her. She didn’t have rules. She hit her in the same way as me. Mia is a genuine misogynist. Brothers were loved and taken care of whereas my sister and I were constantly abused in any possible way.

I was still a human being and I didn’t want to end up like my parents so I decided to plead guilty. But damn, I am the only one who works and I can’t get food. I’m not guilty. But she didn’t think so.

I quickly entered the kitchen and told everything. I even tried to assure her that I earn money and that I can eat what I want in this house. It would have been so much better if I just had shut my mouth and accepted that it’s my fault.

“Mom. I’m the only one who brings money home. I didn’t eat for a couple of days and it was just a small piece of bread. One small bite.”, it’s everything I said.

“I’m going to work and there’s nothing to eat.”, she said really quietly. I was impressed.

Maybe it’s the end of our constant brawls and clashes. Spoiler: it wasn’t.

“I was supposed to buy groceries but I passed out for nine hours and woke up at midnight.”, I said super calmly in order to not provoke her.

She was provoked by those words.

“So that I’m the bad guy here, right?”

“No, I didn-”

“You freaking piece of garbage. I raised you, feed you, didn’t sleep–”

“And beat me every single day! When was the last time you said something good to me? You never raised me! I’ve been working since I was nine–”

She didn’t listen to me until the end. She lunged at me, started choking. Mia was stronger than me as well as taller. I couldn’t compete with her at all. I was just really and genuinely hoping that she would choke me to the death. Although I didn’t wanna die like that, not to mention that it’s a lot of suffering, it was better than keep living with them. But this bitch did not want me to die. Who’s then going to take care of all of them? So she almost choked me not the point when I die but to the point when I pass out. I learned that passing out is the best way to escape. I did it a lot. And learned how to do this. But be careful because if you live in a toxic household, after passing out you probably will end up in weird places as well as me.

I woke up tied to the radiator. She freaking tied me with handcuffs to the radiator. And honestly, the most disgusting thing was that she had sex in those handcuffs. Bruh. In retrospect, it was funny though. But at that moment I realized that no one was home, I was unconscious for just an hour, and I’m late for work. It’s the last thing that I wanted. I was so freaking afraid that I’m gonna lose my job that I started crying and screaming. It lasted for four to five minutes. Then I realized that It didn’t help me. I was 20 minutes late which is a lot but at the same time it wasn’t enormously late, so maybe I wouldn’t lose my job.

Lucky me, I know how to unlock locks without a key. I actually even know morse code. When you are growing up in a toxic household, you learn everything that can help you to survive. But also it is cool to show off for a bit around your classmates. I always told them that my dad taught me that. Everyone's dad taught someone something. And I didn’t want to be an exception.

And one more piece of advice for you, always bear with yourself a hairpin. I had it. Without it, I dare to guess, I would die tied up to the radiator because I know that nobody in my family would have helped me. They were all in alliance with my mom. I even thought that I should not have exposed myself and let my sister be punished. But I’m not like them. I can’t let an innocent person be punished for my misdemeanor, albeit it was really tempting.

So I just used my skills and freed myself. I got to work 56 minutes later. The manager asked me why it happened. And I told the truth. I do not want to lie anymore. I do not want to do what people tell me. It’s enough. Enough allowing other people to “bridle” me.

It was that moment when I started planning how to kill my mom. With a lot of pain and suffering.

How To Kill Your Awful Mom

I wanted everything to look like suicide. So later I realized that I won’t be able to torture my mom. Because it obviously is gonna look like a murder. Saying in advance that I, at the age of 22 told the police all the truth. I have a life sentence in prison. But this story is gonna be told sooner.

Two weeks after I finished my plan. With hindsight, I comprehend that the plan was perfect. It was August 31st. I was going to push her out of the window. No bruises, no cuts. No one would understand that somebody pushed her. No evidence on her body. But it had to be performed at night in order to not get any witnesses. The most complicated part was the pushing. She was bigger and stronger than me, so I needed to trick her to come to the window but also she needed to lean over the windowsill. At least 30% of her body needs to be outside. In other cases, I would not have nailed the pushing.

It was the night of September 1st. I stole my mom’s phone. So she started looking for it.

01:13. I’m in the kitchen. Hear her steps reaching the kitchen. She enters.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

I had to make her furious. I couldn’t lose this opportunity.

“I don’t know where your phone is. You always leave it in visible places, try to use your brain.”

“What did you say?”

“TRY-TO-USE-YOUR-BRAIN”

She hit me two times in the head. Great! She went to the exit. It’s the moment, do it, Florence.

“Look what I got!”, I shouted, showing her phone.

She turned out, saw the phone, and furiously ran to me. At that moment, I threw the phone out of the window. She leaned over the windowsill exactly as I wanted her to do. And I did my job. It was super easy to take her legs when 45% of her body was outside.

No one woke up. I wrote a farewell note. Explained all the suffering in her life and that she couldn’t live like that anymore. I also wrote that a dad could take care of us and we didn’t need her in order to survive. I made her look better. I didn’t want to do it, though.

I only want to say that it could have been performed way better but I’m not an assassin. I did my best, truly. And it worked. I killed her eventually, and everyone thought that it was suicide. No job, no food, her husband beat her. Everything was perfect. I’ve never been so happy. The only thing that upsets me was that Steve, Elon, and Agnes were frustrated because of her death. Like, guys, she was an awful mom. Everyone noticed that.

We didn’t have a funeral. It was too expensive, so we just buried her in a 20$ coffin. Sorry, but she didn’t deserve any better. Eventually, everyone forgot about her and we moved on.

CHAPTER THREE: FATHER

Meet Him

This guy is insane. He is the first reason why I hate men so much. Especially white males who think they are the kings of the world. All the children actually are accidents. Moreover, he said it to each one a lot of times. I have no idea why. Just wear a freaking condom. Or if you do not have money, just avoid sex.

Abel is 63. He’s got gray hair from his 40s, a crazy wrinkled face, and a stupid-looking countenance. Typical short man (something around 5’5), curses every five minutes, bad-spoken. He literally can’t put five words together. He is a rapist, junkie, and abuser. He got a degree in college and even had a great job as an engineer but it didn’t last long. He became an alcoholic and several months later a junkie. He awfully hates women, blames each thing on them, and just feels like men are better than women. He says that we are extremely emotional, not hard-working, too soft, and are created to give birth to children and be a good wife.

His degree is his biggest achievement. Albeit, he sold it to a random guy to buy drugs. I don’t know how he managed to do it because his name is written there but whatever.

Since I was five years old, I was raped by him on a daily basis. It felt like he exactly for this purpose kept me and didn’t let my mom get an abortion. It is so freaking gross and embarrassing to tell this but I need to. 97% of all girls and women have been in any way sexually or physically assaulted. Almost the third part was raped, including me. Moreover, men, if you read this, just know, it’s safer for us to be aware of all men in order to not be taken advantage of. I say all men because you never know exactly who is going to do something with you. I know that it can be offensive but you have never been in our shoes. You don’t know what we feel, so basically you can’t blame us for that. In addition, a lot of men are also scared of other men. It makes me feel heartbroken to say that we have to adapt to this kind of world simply because we do not have other choices. So be respectful towards everyone, not just men you are afraid of. You have all the rights as long as you do not make others uncomfortable. It is that easy.

Men like dad deserve to be burnt in hell, then boiled and cut into millions of pieces. You are not a man, you are not a human if you dare to treat other people in an inappropriate and awful way. Amen.

Come Closer

I guess you already know what I am going to talk about. Sexual assault. It began when I was 5 as I said previously. Approximately 50 times I was raped by my dad. Fun fact: not only he has raped me. A lot of people told me that I am beautiful. Moreover, dad one time said to me that if I hadn’t been his daughter, he would have married me. Just imagine how much he's messed-up. After that, I always wear baggy clothes, never wash my hair, and talk with a really brute voice. It didn’t help me.

Not make women look like shit, even though most of them are shit, I was once raped by a woman. However, according to statistics, there are 99% psychos among women-rapists. Thus, I encountered a psycho. The experience was extremely weird, compared with men. But I told you that later.

So let’s kick off the first-reason story. I clearly remember that moment. Whereas a lot of other girls say that their brain just blocks all the memories from childhood. They don't remember the rape but also the whole childhood. I think I can clearly see the recollection because this is my dad, I see him every day, it has happened more than once, and I was absolutely sober each time.

When it happened for the first time, I, indeed, was sober. I could not prove him because I was a kid. I didn't even have boobs. I wasn’t mature even close. This pedofile just used me.

He picked me up from kindergarten where he was really amiably talking with my kindergartener. But I was always with some bruises and cuts and I thought that she would do something. I was sure that she would notice and take me away from this family. Unfortunately, that has never happened. I guess it is because of their salary. My kindergarten was utterly cheap and, I suppose, they weren’t paid enough. Then why did they have to care about children who were sexually and physically abused? They didn’t have to but if they did, they would save me and I wouldn’t end up like that, writing this not a book but rather a memoir. Really short memoir because my life ended three months ago when I got to jail with a life sentence.

The First Reason

He picked me up earlier. Usually, you have to take your kids at 5:00 AM. He did it two hours earlier, explaining that I had to go to Art School. I have never been to Art School. To say that it was weird, I can’t say this. I was a toddler who hated that place as I guess, everyone else. So I was happy to get out of there.

When I got home, he was really gentle. I have never seen him like that. He offered me his help to change my clothes. In kindergarten, all moms help their children to change their clothes. Consequently, I agreed. We were alone. No one was at home. He put me on his knees, which wasn’t super necessary. I was a bit big for this. He placed me in the way where I was pressed in his thigh. I was sitting like I was riding on a horse. You can imagine this because it’s hard for me to tell those details.

“I wish I forgot that moment but I remember it super vividly. Nevertheless, it’s okay. I’m a grown-up kiddo. I can handle this. Though I couldn’t when I was five.”

I felt that something was wrong. Dad had never been like this. He helped me to change my clothes. But still, he kept me on his knees, so I escaped. But he was angry because of this.

I entered the kitchen. He followed me. While he was cooking, I was doing my homework. He constantly looked back at me. It was creepy as hell. When he finished, I quickly ate and started to get ready for basketball practice. I tried to be as quick as possible but I mishandled this task. He began to ask me different questions, such as “Who are you a friend with?” “Whom do you tell about your day?”. When I told him that I’m busy and needed to go, he went crazy. He closed the door with the key, took away my key, and went to the bedroom. A 6-year-old girl aka me was extremely disappointed. Why does an adult act himself as a kid? I was like, what’s wrong with you? I want to go out with my friend. You never cared about me. Plus I started going out with friends two months ago. It sounds weird, I know but it is true.

In order to get out of that apartment, I went to the bedroom where he was. I still regret that decision. He caught me and threw me on the bed. My daddy had assaulted me before, so I knew that something was going to happen. I honestly do not want to talk about it because it’s a woefully traumatizing experience for me. I can just say that he raped me that day. It was a bright and sunny day. That’s it.

What Led Me

It hasn’t happened once. It was happening all the time. I couldn’t bear it anymore. Sorry for those who understand how I felt. I am extremely lucky that the police were not able to find out that it was us. Many victims of domestic abuse end up in jail just because they want a better life for themselves and had to kill those who caused the unbearable pain. In this situation, I am thankful to God for helping me.

Constant abuse by my dad was something out of line. I cried every single day and even more times wanted to kill myself.

He did not just abuse me. He abused everyone who was surrounding him. He did it with my sister. With my brothers when they weren’t old enough to resist him. He did it with his wife. With random women on the street. He felt completely unrestrained. He could touch them, hit them if something was wrong. He was real trash. He wasn’t a man nor human. He didn’t want to socialize. No friends, no relatives, no manners, nothing. He was nothing and has got nothing. I feel woefully embarrassed that I’m related to him.

Murder By Accident

I or better to say we killed him roughly one month after a mom’s “suicide”. I almost got caught before the reprisal of my siblings. But everything is okay right now, so do not worry if you do. I frankly was relieved after that. So many shitty situations happened in my life. I got such a great immune system that even a liar detector did not work on me. I was able to answer all the questions as they wanted me to. Later about it.

After his wife’s death, he started drinking even more. Almost every day he got home absolutely wasted which actually wasn’t really surprising. But one day he decided to beat the hell out of each member of the family. He started to beat my younger sister, then me, and then he became so brave and stupid that he started beating his sons which was kind of crazy. But it was fun. For the first time, my siblings and I had the opportunity to unite because we had the same enemy. However, that man took a knife, a really sharp one, and threw it at Steve. He got the knife in the arm. Gosh, he was injured really badly. The blood started to leak. That was the moment when I knew our dad was not going to survive through that night. And I was happy to realize it. Every fiber of my body was feeling relief. It was kind of shocking to be there, surrounded by the people who wanted revenge, witnessing the scene of murdering and being an accomplice.

That man was wasted and couldn’t control himself. He passed out three times. And when he was passed out for the last time, Steve ended up cutting his throat. It was awful. You should’ve seen that scene. It was disgusting. But we were all there together. Plus he ended up suffering, so we all helped Steve to get rid of the body. That’s what families do. They help each other out. I thought that after that we would always be friendly with each other but no. I’m not living in a fairytale, so I had to suffer new pain.

CHAPTER FOUR: AGNES

Better If I Ate Her In A Womb

The sentence above perfectly describes my relationship with my sister. Moreover, it goes both ways. I would’ve been over the moon if she had eaten me. And she would’ve been extremely excited if she hadn’t been born alive. You probably guess that everyone has such a relationship among siblings. But how dare you say it before I even started digging in. So probably you are allowed to say it after reading this chapter.

She is 19, only 2 years younger than me. But it feels like she is 35 and has tried everything out here. Agnes started smoking at 11 years old, drinking at 12. She tried weed at 14 and went to harder drugs at 17. Honestly, she was almost dead because of them when I killed her. So, I feel like I was a blessing for her. She had her first boyfriend at 13, first kiss at 13, and first sex at 13. She got a boyfriend in March, and a kiss and sex were in April. Pretty lucky girl, isn’t she? Or better to use the past tense ‘wasn’t she’ because she is dead. Stupid joke, I know. You know what? I just realized that this whole situation with my family actually kind of seems like “Shameless”. I haven’t watched “Shameless” but I heard a lot about this TV show, so I feel like it seems like this. All members of the family are messed up. Each of them is an embodiment of some kind of sin. But they didn’t kill one another which is good.

I actually was really happy to have a sister for some time. When I was six, I thought that I would finally get a friend. To say it today sounds weird. I thought that I was the only one kid in the world who didn't have a friend. In reality, I guess 37% of the population don’t have a friend at any age, my parents and a sister including. I have no idea what is supposed to be in a mom’s head to make daughters enemies. She constantly told one of us how bad the other one was. She even ripped three books of mine and told me that it was Agnes. I never believed it. I trusted my sister, and when she responded with ‘no’, I was sure that it wasn’t she who ripped my books. However, she has never believed me, even though I never gave a reason. I never lied to her because I wanted to have some kind of platonic relationship.

But our mommy brainwashed her naive brains and since her 6th birthday, she has never wanted to have something to do with me. Since that she called me a liar, bastard, bitch, motherfucker, morron, stupid chick, and cock-sucker, and so on. She never truly loved me. And I cannot say this. I guess you can truly love someone if that person even neutrally treats you. Or at least it works for me. So we have never got a chance to get to know each other.

To be honest, she was an interesting persona till 13, but then she became friends with a really bad company. I tried to tell her that people who offer you alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs are not your friends. But she refused to listen. Therefore, the situation became even worse. Once her friend told me that she was raped, and when I asked her about it, she told me that it was a mutual agreement. But I believed her friend. A girl told me that they were at the party, and some boys were drunk and decided to rape my sister. Agnes actually told her friend that she WAS really raped. Maybe she was afraid to tell me, but it is she who didn’t want to do anything with me. I perhaps will sound cruel but it’s her fault in the aspect of getting help. I could’ve helped her without her knowing but apparently it was not what she wanted.

She actually was the one who helped my brother to start using drugs. She was the one who always told my mom about my mistakes and troubles. She was the one who always helped mom to beat me. She was the one who threw my dog on the streets. (I still cannot find my Rory). She was the one who damaged my books, clothes, and other stuff. She was the one who stole my money. She was the one who embarrassed me at school. She was the one who embarrassed me at work. She was the one who slept with my boyfriend, but it’s his fault as well. She was the one who told my friends about my diagnosis, even though I didn’t want anyone to know. She was the one who ate my food when I was distracted for a bit, even though I was the only one who worked. She was the one who made my anxiety and depression worse. She was the one who dyed my hair in the black when I was asleep. She was the one who sold my laptop because she needed money to buy drugs. She was the one who put nuts in my soup, knowing that I am allergic to almonds.

She perfectly knew that I could’ve died because of those tree smashed pieces of almonds. However, she told me that she had not believed in such stuff and wanted to check. Of course, the girl didn’t study at school. She always skipped lessons and then she dropped out. She thought that if she was not allergic, therefore, everyone could not be allergic. A bright mind, isn’t she?

But, frankly, the situations above are not that bad. Read what I’m writing below. It is what can drive you crazy.

The Cost Of Drugs

It was June the 30st of 2019. I had turned 15 four weeks before it. That birthday was special because it was the anniversary of my job. It was the date of 1 year working. I started working as a cashier in a local market on June 1th. It was honestly a great experience for me. I had a really great boss who knew my situation and wanted to help. The only person who I am thankful for. But right now I am so embarrassed that I let him down. He was so determined to give me a better life and make me a better person. It’s the only moment when I’m embarrassed for sitting in jail and killing my family. So to make up for it I will write a chapter about him. I’m not gonna use any specific information about him, do if you read this, you can be calm. I’m not going to reveal your personal information for your own good.

For now, let’s get back to the story. For this little anniversary, I bought myself a laptop. Really expensive because I wanted to use that laptop for many years. Plus I could draw on this laptop because it had a sensor display. It was an extremely cool purchase, but everyone in my family was so jealous that I had such a great device. So for my own good I was almost all the time carrying it with me. But I guess you know what I want to tell you about.

On June the 31st I had my break day, so I slept till 11:00 am. But, unfortunately, that morning was a literal nightmare. I woke up and felt something wet on my head. I quickly ran to the bathroom and looked at the mirror. To say that I was shocked, there’s nothing to say. There are literally no words to describe my anger at that moment. Random parts of my hair were red, some of them black. She dyed my hair while I was asleep. How could you even come up with this kind of stuff? Dying someone’s hair while they are asleep is an extremely callous act. You cannot just do it. You have rights until you bother another person. And it’s a serious misdemeanor. She was not the brightest mind but this trick was kind of interesting. BUT STILL it wasn’t a prank with a lovely friend. It was an act of jealousy and rage. I decided not to live this situation as it was.

I went to the police and handled that with them. In the beginning, they didn’t want to help me. They thought that it was just a prank and I was taking it too seriously. So I told them the history of my family. Told you about all the misdemeanors of my family. I told them how she cut the hair of one girl at school without her permission. About her using drugs, constantly drinking alcohol as a 13-year-old. I told them about rape. Sorry, but it was too much for me. You should’ve seen their faces. They were like ‘okay, okay, okay, we’re gonna help you’. And they aided me in getting her. I filled out forms and a couple of letters. Then they decided that it would be better for her to do correctional labor for two weeks. I was so excited to hear that. Finally, she will get punished.

I got home in two hours, went to clean up my hair. Agnes followed me and started asking stupid questions.

“You look amazing with black and red hair”, pause.

“Even better with such style. Not concretely, not aligned. Perfect”, she was saying with such an ugly smile.

I was standing there embarrassed and humiliated. But I decided not to tell her about the police raid in one hour. The only one thing I had to do was keep her for an hour. It was Saturday, so the task was the easiest one. But she was constantly insulting me. It was hard to bear.

When I started to clean up my hair, only some of the paint was cleaned as expected. And she was standing there, watching me. Gosh, this girl was 16 at that time. She was almost an adult, she could think properly, she could do stuff that adults do, but she was not mature enough to not to do a thing that a 9-year-old could do.

As I was staying in that bathroom, she went somewhere. And came back with scissors. She threw those scissors at me. Little moron.

“I guess it is better if you just cut that hair. Or if you want to have a neat haircut, you should shave it off completely.”

“Can you for God’s sake just leave me alone? Get out.”

“No, honey. Don’t you dare to speak with me like this. Or you want to have yellow hair.”

“I am not going to fight with you. You have done enough. And soon you will be punished-”

“Ohh, I am so scared.”

“Your choice.”

I pushed her out of the bathroom and closed the door. I cut all of my hair. I was feeling really bad. And I had a good head shape, so I wasn’t afraid to be almost bald for a while. But I had to watch my sister so that the police could catch her. I heard the sound of a phone ringing. Only in twenty-three seconds did I realize that it was my phone. I quickly got out of the bathroom and ran to the phone. I saw Agnes speaking with the police. I heard her saying something like “Everything is okay. I don’t need you anymore.” And hang.

“You such a bastard.”, she told me.

“I know that I do bad stuff but calling the police on me? You crossed the line, sister.”, she was saying it with anger.

“Are you kidding me? You dyed my hair without my permission. It’s serious. I don’t consider you my sister, so I guess you deserve to be punished as a stranger did this. Look at me. I look like shit. This hair needs to grow for at least ten months.”

“So what? You’re gonna call the police every time something bad happens to you?”

“Yes. As you should.”

“Why would I call the police? I’m not like you. Everything is good with me.”

“You were raped at that party. And it would be fantastic to punish that piece of garbage.”

“Don’t you dare to talk with me about this. You’re not my friend. And you weren’t there. So shut your beautiful mouth up.”

“Okay. However, I’m going to speak about my problems and I'm not going to let random people ruin my life. I’m not sorry for calling the police. I’m sick of you. I’m sick of this messed up family.”

“Everyone is. You’re not the exception.”

“I perfectly know it, honey. But if everyone tried to handle the situation, not just complain.”

“Okay. Okay. You’re better than everyone in this family.”

“No. I just want a better life.”

“What the freak is your definition of a better life? Want to go to college? Get a job? Dog, a kid?”

“Shut up. I’m not gonna share it with you. And sorry, for my goals. I see they offend you that much.”

Tense pause. It was really awkward.

“You’re gonna regret what you did.”, she said.

“Oh. I’m going to regret what you did with hair. Pretty fair.” I yelled in her back as she went away from me.

At that moment I did not know what she would do to me several hours later.

I decided not to pay that much attention to the dyed hair. I thought that she would stop messing with me after that conversation, even though she told me that I was going to regret something. Everyone can say anything when they are angry.

I went on a walk with my dog. Oh, I actually still have not introduced you to my dog. It’s Vivien. My lovely labrador. She is 3 years old. I’m her only owner. Never let my family even touch her. I’m trying to be always with her. She’s my best friend and I love her so much.

But who knew that while I was on a walk, she would sell my laptop. She sold my laptop. Gosh, I wish I could explain my feelings better but it was humiliating and disgusting.

So how was it? I came back home and wanted to do some stuff on the laptop. I didn’t find it on my desk where I usually left. I did not panick ‘cause I did not expect it to happen at all. I tried to find it in other rooms. No success. Then I started panicking. Everyone was at home, so I decided to suspect them all. No one loved me there. Therefore, everyone could steal my laptop. I asked everyone if they saw my laptop and, Thank God, my brother said that he had seen Agnes with my laptop. But Agnes wasn’t at home! It meant that she brought it with her outside. I truly saw my whole life passing by me. This girl just wants my death. I didn’t know where she went, so there was no point in wandering on the streets. I decided to wait till she got home in order to beat the shit out of her in order to get what I want.

She came back in almost two hours. I saw no laptop in her hands. “Cool, she threw it somewhere.” – was my very first thought. I went to her.

“Where is my laptop? I know that you took it.”

“I have no idea where it is.”

“Don’t you dare to act like you don’t where it is.”

“I have no-”

It was the last drop. I started beating so hard and screaming about my laptop. I don’t expect you to understand what I went through. But that laptop cost $1000 and it was kind of A LOT for me. Plus, my sister is not trust-worthy. No one could believe her. And my brother saw her with my laptop and she was the one who threatened me to do something bad. I hit her in the table and then in the wall. She was weaker than me, so I could do anything to her. Honestly, I felt that she deserved that.

“Okay. Stop it. I’ll tell you.” she screamed at me.

I stopped, waiting for her to breathe in.

“I didn’t want to do it. But you forced me-”

“I forced you? God, do you know that you cannot damage someone’s property? You can get in jail. You are so stupid.”

“I sold it in the Lombard.”

Tense moment. Really tense. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to choke her. I wanted to execute her.

“Are you kidding me? You seriously sold my $1000 laptop to the Lombard because I yelled at you for dying my hair?”

“Yes.”

“You need to see a psychiatrist. Or even dozens of them. But for now, I need you to tell me which freaking Lombard did you choose?”

“ That is in the center across from Walmart.”

“Okay. And now you give me $1000 and I buy my laptop. I guess it’s fair since you sold it for no reason.”

“I had my reasons.”

“No, you did not. You sold my laptop because you’re a psycho. There was no severe reason, believe me.”

“I don’t have this amount of money.”

“How much do you have?”

“I’m not gonna give you any money.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m gonna take them by myself.”

I went to our room. Yes, we lived in the same room. She followed me and tried to prevent me from digging in her bags and stuff. But I’m stronger. I knew that in this family only the strongest and the smartest can survive. So I was the strongest and the smartest. She couldn’t beat me. It was actually hilarious to see her trying to beat me. And I hit her once and she fell back.

I was trying to find some money. I knew that she had been stealing, so deep in my heart, I hoped to find even more.

Evrika. $745 was lying under her pillow. I took everything and went to the Lombard. She was crying on the floor when I went. I did not wear a coat, though it was kind of freezing on the streets but I did not care. I ran to the Lombard as quickly as possible. Finally I reached it. Entered and with a confident stride. The man-cashier was kind of disgusting. He was eating something with literally no manners. Food was all around the place. He was fat, ragged, and I was curious how he could work in that place.

“Good day, sir. I was wondering if you have a laptop or computer.”

“Good day, missis. Yes, we do. Let me get it for you.”

He had a nice voice and sounded really polite.

“One was brought today. Really great one, with all the tricks you ever wanted.”

“It’s cool.”

“Here it is. Look”

He brought my laptop. Gosh, I guess I have never loved my laptop more.

“Gosh, I already want this. How much?”

“$700.”

“Perfect! Let me see it one more time.”

Laptop was okay. I did not notice any damage. It worked properly. And the cost was okay. I had that money, so I decided not to try to lower it.

“Here is your $700, count it because I’m bad at math”

“If you insist.”

He counted the money. Exactly $700. He took them and gave me the laptop. I was finally relieved and headed home. When I came back, Vivien did not meet me. It was the moment when I realised that she did something to her. I tried to find Vivien or Agnes, but they were not home. I was so angry that second. I regretted my decision to go take my laptop. I regretted that I did not take Vivien with myself. I regretted that she was my sister. No one can do such damage towards anyone. It is a crime and she will pay for that.

I couldn’t stay home, so I decided to find them. We lived in a relatively small city, but it still was kind of big to look for someone, however I did not care since my dog was missing and I was not sure if I would be able to keep living without her.

It was around 7:00 PM, cold, disgusting, and lonely. I entered every vet clinic, pet store, shelter. I was hopeless because she wasn’t even on our favorite spot near a river.

I went home crying as ugly as ever before. There I found Agnes sitting relentlessly on the couch. She was eating some snakes and drinking coke. Vivien was not there. She was not in any corner of our apartment. This jerk left her somewhere on the streets. I approached her quickly and threw the snakes in another corner of the room.

“Where the freak is Vivien?”

“I have no freaking clue.”

“I am gonna beat you so madly if you don’t tell me.”

“Even if you are about to kill me, I still don’t say a word ‘cause you deserve it.”

“How do I deserve it? Tell me please.”

“You are a jerk.”

“Oh, I am a jerk?”

“Oh, yes, you are. You called the police on me-”

“Are you serious? You know why I did that?”

“You did that because you’re a nerd and it’s so hard for your stupid brains to get a joke.”

“We are not friends to joke with one another. We are not real sisters to prank one another. We are total strangers who, unfortunately, live in the same house and in the same room. That’s it. It does not mean that you could mess with me, do anything to me. You, frat, have rights till you bother another person’s rights. Don’t you know it? I had all the rights to call the police on you since you dared to dye my perfectly bleached hair in pink and black. I had to cut my hair. I don’t like the way I look right now. And toxic paint was on my hair and head all night-”

“5 hours.”

“When it should be less than an hour! You did damage to my health, my appearance, my mental health. And you expect me to willingly accept all of this?”

“I’m not an angel. As well as you are-”

“Oh, really?”

“I always tried to be nice to you and you never did.”

“Are you kidding? Our mother kept us apart and told me shit about you as well as you about me. And you know what? I never believed her ‘cause you were my sister and I liked you. I thought that finally I would get a friend. NO. You decided to be on the mother’s side. You mocked me all the time. You have never been nice to me.”

“I tried. But also, you cannot blame. You know that to me on the mother’s side is way more safer. She does not mess with me as with you. She hates you so much and it’s just easier for me to support her.”

“See. You are against me. Not me. And guess what, I have never chosen mother over anyone. This whole concept is so ridiculous. Don’t you understand this? Choosing someone, so that you won’t get bullied? It is insane.”

“Think whatever you want. I’m not going to help you anyway.”

“Don’t be like our mom. Please.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“Forget it. Be cruel to me, okay. I accept it. But don’t be cruel to Vivien. She’s just a dog and I bet you don’t want a harmless creature to suffer. I’m begging you.”

“It’s not in my power anymore. I left her in the forest to the South. She’s never been there. So I dont know if she’s going to make it.”

My eyes were full of tears and I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t stay. I had to get her home. She was my best friend. Best friend whom I’ve never seen after that.

It was the most tragic experience in my life. After that conversation I went to that forest and searched there for 4 solid hours. No luck. I went to the police station and they refused to help me in any possible way.

Every day for three weeks I took my bike and rode that to find my Vivien. Before school, after school, before going to bed, every spare minute I was looking for her. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have messed with Agnes. I tried to save my dignity but no one cared about it. I lost Vivien because of my dignity. I still hope that she’s in a better place. I hope that some really great family finds her and she lives her best life. She deserves it. And I hope that she forgot about me. I don’t want her to remember me. I don’t want her to remember that betrayal. I feel so guilty that I gave up on searching after only three weeks.

I tried to do my best or I just want to believe that I tried my best.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I decided not to have another dog after her. I can’t take care of myself. What can I say about taking care of a dog? I chose a stupid laptop over my lovely Vivien. What a bastard I am. I never forgave my sister. It was even out of my mind that someone can be so callous towards animals.

I guess it was enough to want revenge. But I decided to cool off and be more careful. A couple of years and I was out of that town. I just had to wait. As you know, I did not.

She did one more thing that totally destroyed me.

“See. You are against me. Not me. And guess what, I have never chosen mother over anyone. This whole concept is so ridiculous. Don’t you understand this? Choosing someone, so that you won’t get bullied? It is insane.”

“Think whatever you want. I’m not going to help you anyway.”

“Don’t be like our mom. Please.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“Forget it. Be cruel to me, okay. I accept it. But don’t be cruel to Vivien. She’s just a dog and I bet you don’t want a harmless creature to suffer. I’m begging you.”

“It’s not in my power anymore. I left her in the forest to the South. She’s never been there. So I dont know if she’s going to make it.”

My eyes were full of tears and I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t stay. I had to get her home. She was my best friend. Best friend whom I’ve never seen after that.

It was the most tragic experience in my life. After that conversation I went to that forest and searched there for 4 solid hours. No luck. I went to the police station and they refused to help me in any possible way.

Every day for three weeks I took my bike and rode that to find my Vivien. Before school, after school, before going to bed, every spare minute I was looking for her. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have messed with Agnes. I tried to save my dignity but no one cared about it. I lost Vivien because of my dignity. I still hope that she’s in a better place. I hope that some really great family finds her and she lives her best life. She deserves it. And I hope that she forgot about me. I don’t want her to remember me. I don’t want her to remember that betrayal. I feel so guilty that I gave up on searching after only three weeks.

I tried to do my best or I just want to believe that I tried my best.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I decided not to have another dog after her. I can’t take care of myself. What can I say about taking care of a dog? I chose a stupid laptop over my lovely Vivien. What a bastard I am. I never forgave my sister. It was even out of my mind that someone can be so callous towards animals.

“See. You are against me. Not me. And guess what, I have never chosen mother over anyone. This whole concept is so ridiculous. Don’t you understand this? Choosing someone, so that you won’t get bullied? It is insane.”

“Think whatever you want. I’m not going to help you anyway.”

“Don’t be like our mom. Please.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“Forget it. Be cruel to me, okay. I accept it. But don’t be cruel to Vivien. She’s just a dog and I bet you don’t want a harmless creature to suffer. I’m begging you.”

“It’s not in my power anymore. I left her in the forest to the South. She’s never been there. So I dont know if she’s going to make it.”

My eyes were full of tears and I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t stay. I had to get her home. She was my best friend. Best friend whom I’ve never seen after that.

It was the most tragic experience in my life. After that conversation I went to that forest and searched there for 4 solid hours. No luck. I went to the police station and they refused to help me in any possible way.

Every day for three weeks I took my bike and rode that to find my Vivien. Before school, after school, before going to bed, every spare minute I was looking for her. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have messed with Agnes. I tried to save my dignity but no one cared about it. I lost Vivien because of my dignity. I still hope that she’s in a better place. I hope that some really great family finds her and she lives her best life. She deserves it. And I hope that she forgot about me. I don’t want her to remember me. I don’t want her to remember that betrayal. I feel so guilty that I gave up on searching after only three weeks.

I tried to do my best or I just want to believe that I tried my best.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I decided not to have another dog after her. I can’t take care of myself. What can I say about taking care of a dog? I chose a stupid laptop over my lovely Vivien. What a bastard I am. I never forgave my sister. It was even out of my mind that someone can be so callous towards animals.

“See. You are against me. Not me. And guess what, I have never chosen mother over anyone. This whole concept is so ridiculous. Don’t you understand this? Choosing someone, so that you won’t get bullied? It is insane.”

“Think whatever you want. I’m not going to help you anyway.”

“Don’t be like our mom. Please.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“Forget it. Be cruel to me, okay. I accept it. But don’t be cruel to Vivien. She’s just a dog and I bet you don’t want a harmless creature to suffer. I’m begging you.”

“It’s not in my power anymore. I left her in the forest to the South. She’s never been there. So I dont know if she’s going to make it.”

My eyes were full of tears and I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t stay. I had to get her home. She was my best friend. Best friend whom I’ve never seen after that.

It was the most tragic experience in my life. After that conversation I went to that forest and searched there for 4 solid hours. No luck. I went to the police station and they refused to help me in any possible way.

Every day for three weeks I took my bike and rode that to find my Vivien. Before school, after school, before going to bed, every spare minute I was looking for her. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have messed with Agnes. I tried to save my dignity but no one cared about it. I lost Vivien because of my dignity. I still hope that she’s in a better place. I hope that some really great family finds her and she lives her best life. She deserves it. And I hope that she forgot about me. I don’t want her to remember me. I don’t want her to remember that betrayal. I feel so guilty that I gave up on searching after only three weeks.

I tried to do my best or I just want to believe that I tried my best.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I decided not to have another dog after her. I can’t take care of myself. What can I say about taking care of a dog? I chose a stupid laptop over my lovely Vivien. What a bastard I am. I never forgave my sister. It was even out of my mind that someone can be so callous towards animals.

“See. You are against me. Not me. And guess what, I have never chosen mother over anyone. This whole concept is so ridiculous. Don’t you understand this? Choosing someone, so that you won’t get bullied? It is insane.”

“Think whatever you want. I’m not going to help you anyway.”

“Don’t be like our mom. Please.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“Forget it. Be cruel to me, okay. I accept it. But don’t be cruel to Vivien. She’s just a dog and I bet you don’t want a harmless creature to suffer. I’m begging you.”

“It’s not in my power anymore. I left her in the forest to the South. She’s never been there. So I dont know if she’s going to make it.”

My eyes were full of tears and I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t stay. I had to get her home. She was my best friend. Best friend whom I’ve never seen after that.

It was the most tragic experience in my life. After that conversation I went to that forest and searched there for 4 solid hours. No luck. I went to the police station and they refused to help me in any possible way.

Every day for three weeks I took my bike and rode that to find my Vivien. Before school, after school, before going to bed, every spare minute I was looking for her. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have messed with Agnes. I tried to save my dignity but no one cared about it. I lost Vivien because of my dignity. I still hope that she’s in a better place. I hope that some really great family finds her and she lives her best life. She deserves it. And I hope that she forgot about me. I don’t want her to remember me. I don’t want her to remember that betrayal. I feel so guilty that I gave up on searching after only three weeks.

I tried to do my best or I just want to believe that I tried my best.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I decided not to have another dog after her. I can’t take care of myself. What can I say about taking care of a dog? I chose a stupid laptop over my lovely Vivien. What a bastard I am. I never forgave my sister. It was even out of my mind that someone can be so callous towards animals.

“See. You are against me. Not me. And guess what, I have never chosen mother over anyone. This whole concept is so ridiculous. Don’t you understand this? Choosing someone, so that you won’t get bullied? It is insane.”

“Think whatever you want. I’m not going to help you anyway.”

“Don’t be like our mom. Please.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“Forget it. Be cruel to me, okay. I accept it. But don’t be cruel to Vivien. She’s just a dog and I bet you don’t want a harmless creature to suffer. I’m begging you.”

“It’s not in my power anymore. I left her in the forest to the South. She’s never been there. So I dont know if she’s going to make it.”

My eyes were full of tears and I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t stay. I had to get her home. She was my best friend. Best friend whom I’ve never seen after that.

It was the most tragic experience in my life. After that conversation I went to that forest and searched there for 4 solid hours. No luck. I went to the police station and they refused to help me in any possible way.

Every day for three weeks I took my bike and rode that to find my Vivien. Before school, after school, before going to bed, every spare minute I was looking for her. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have messed with Agnes. I tried to save my dignity but no one cared about it. I lost Vivien because of my dignity. I still hope that she’s in a better place. I hope that some really great family finds her and she lives her best life. She deserves it. And I hope that she forgot about me. I don’t want her to remember me. I don’t want her to remember that betrayal. I feel so guilty that I gave up on searching after only three weeks.

I tried to do my best or I just want to believe that I tried my best.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I decided not to have another dog after her. I can’t take care of myself. What can I say about taking care of a dog? I chose a stupid laptop over my lovely Vivien. What a bastard I am. I never forgave my sister. It was even out of my mind that someone can be so callous towards animals.

“See. You are against me. Not me. And guess what, I have never chosen mother over anyone. This whole concept is so ridiculous. Don’t you understand this? Choosing someone, so that you won’t get bullied? It is insane.”

“Think whatever you want. I’m not going to help you anyway.”

“Don’t be like our mom. Please.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“Forget it. Be cruel to me, okay. I accept it. But don’t be cruel to Vivien. She’s just a dog and I bet you don’t want a harmless creature to suffer. I’m begging you.”

“It’s not in my power anymore. I left her in the forest to the South. She’s never been there. So I dont know if she’s going to make it.”

My eyes were full of tears and I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t stay. I had to get her home. She was my best friend. Best friend whom I’ve never seen after that.

It was the most tragic experience in my life. After that conversation I went to that forest and searched there for 4 solid hours. No luck. I went to the police station and they refused to help me in any possible way.

Every day for three weeks I took my bike and rode that to find my Vivien. Before school, after school, before going to bed, every spare minute I was looking for her. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have messed with Agnes. I tried to save my dignity but no one cared about it. I lost Vivien because of my dignity. I still hope that she’s in a better place. I hope that some really great family finds her and she lives her best life. She deserves it. And I hope that she forgot about me. I don’t want her to remember me. I don’t want her to remember that betrayal. I feel so guilty that I gave up on searching after only three weeks.

I tried to do my best or I just want to believe that I tried my best.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I decided not to have another dog after her. I can’t take care of myself. What can I say about taking care of a dog? I chose a stupid laptop over my lovely Vivien. What a bastard I am. I never forgave my sister. It was even out of my mind that someone can be so callous towards animals.

“See. You are against me. Not me. And guess what, I have never chosen mother over anyone. This whole concept is so ridiculous. Don’t you understand this? Choosing someone, so that you won’t get bullied? It is insane.”

“Think whatever you want. I’m not going to help you anyway.”

“Don’t be like our mom. Please.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“Forget it. Be cruel to me, okay. I accept it. But don’t be cruel to Vivien. She’s just a dog and I bet you don’t want a harmless creature to suffer. I’m begging you.”

“It’s not in my power anymore. I left her in the forest to the South. She’s never been there. So I dont know if she’s going to make it.”

My eyes were full of tears and I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t stay. I had to get her home. She was my best friend. Best friend whom I’ve never seen after that.

It was the most tragic experience in my life. After that conversation I went to that forest and searched there for 4 solid hours. No luck. I went to the police station and they refused to help me in any possible way.

Every day for three weeks I took my bike and rode that to find my Vivien. Before school, after school, before going to bed, every spare minute I was looking for her. And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have messed with Agnes. I tried to save my dignity but no one cared about it. I lost Vivien because of my dignity. I still hope that she’s in a better place. I hope that some really great family finds her and she lives her best life. She deserves it. And I hope that she forgot about me. I don’t want her to remember me. I don’t want her to remember that betrayal. I feel so guilty that I gave up on searching after only three weeks.

I tried to do my best or I just want to believe that I tried my best.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I decided not to have another dog after her. I can’t take care of myself. What can I say about taking care of a dog? I chose a stupid laptop over my lovely Vivien. What a bastard I am. I never forgave my sister. It was even out of my mind that someone can be so callous towards animals.

You Have No Heart

I hate people who don’t respect others, those who think that they can easily offend someone and get away with it. Honey, it does not work this way. Karma is real and I know it for sure, trust me. Moreover, as I said before, you have rights until you bother another person. It’s that simple. I don’t know when people started thinking that they can hit another person, damage or steal the property of another person, or even yell or curse on anyone. Is it like a trend or something? It’s extremely weird for me.

In my family everyone is that person. That person who does not care about anyone around them, even about a family. I myself don’t really enjoy the concept of the family, but when someone is in trouble, you help them no matter what. You don’t curse them, you don’t beat them. You treat them the way you want to be treated. That’s it. And I’m really sorry for those who can relate to me. It's a truly disgusting feeling.

My sister did not learn anything from our last fight about Vivien, laptop, and police. She did not make any conclusions. She kept doing shit to me. She kept supporting mother in mocking me. She kept making pranks, joking with me. I had no idea how to change such behavior. It’s impossible. I tried to talk to her. No luck. So I guess it is okay that she is not alive anymore. Otherwise, she would bug people around her so much.

However, that's not the point of this chapter. The point is to show what the last reason that led me to end the life of Agnes. She was cruel to me all the time and this situation just proved me right.

I have been bulimic since I was 13 years old. Some people don’t consider bulimia a real disease which is extremely frustrating for those who suffer from this. As you probably guess, no one in my family thought of bulimia as a true issue. I actually had no intentions to tell them about this diagnos at all. I knew that they wouldn’t understand me. However, Agnes helped them to find it out! Thank you by the way.

It’s kind of a really embarrassing experience for me, so I will tell the story short with no deep details. I still have bulimia, so I hope you will understand it.

It was December the 7th. I was 17 years old when it happened. And Agnes was 16 years old. If I heard this story, I would never have believed that it was true. She is the devil but not in the sense as Amy from Gone Girl. This girl was a literal psycho. I bet you would be disgusted if you met her.

Cut to the chase, it is quite hard to hide such a diagnosis in any family. For me it was hard as expected. Six people live in one apartment. Three bedrooms. Two in each one. It’s actually not that extreme but still. I could not hide really well because those people are not permanently employed. Some of them work a month, then two month off. Circle. Some of them don’t work at all. Some of them are having weird and hectic schedules, so I have no idea about their daily agenda. Plus, they, I guess, are introverts because going out is not for them. Or a better answer for them would be no friends. Sorry, but it’s true, these junkies are not created for any friendships. And when I say it, I mean it. They cannot get along even with their family. With other relatives. They are insane, I swear!!!! But let us get to the facts.

Apparently, Agnes once found out about my issue. I don’t know what's supposed to be in the head to make next actions. She put a camera in the toilet and recorded me. Well hidden, bravo! I did not notice this. At all. What can I say. This whole process is disgusting. I take a pill, put two fingers in my mouth and then it comes out. I’m always trying to get as much as I can, so I am pushing really hard. And it was all on the videotape. After I came out, she immediately went to the toilet and took the camera. As she said to me. What was then is kind of crazy as well.

Next two weeks were a nightmare. She had been blackmailing me till I hit her in the wall. In the beginning, I did not know who it was. The video was sent to me from a random email. I knew it was someone from my family but I wasn’t sure. I thought it was my mom because she hated me the most. Therefore, I did a couple pranks on her. Really cruel ones, I’m not gonna tell you about them. But in three days I decided to check her phone and I did not find any emails, videos and so on. It was not her. My list was narrowed down to Agnes, Steve, Ilon, and my dad. He was a villain as well. I did a lot of research on the phones of Steve and Ilon. It wasn’t them. Something told me that it was Agnes. My gut felt it. Dad is too detached. I bet it was Agnes. While she was eating one day in the kitchen, I took her phone and found that video. That girl was the cruelest creature in the world, I swear. However, as it always happens with me, I did not have a chance to delete a video. She came into the room out of blue for her freaking phone. And she could vividly see me searching on her phone. I actually did not notice how she entered the room, so I was kind of shocked when someone slapped me in the cheek and then in the other one. I lost the phone out of my hands and out of my sight. I tried to find it but she was yelling at me and beating me. I did as well in response. It was going on for six minutes. I ended up with nothing. She posted this shit on Facebook in the group of our town where every single soul was following.

I cannot describe to you how embarrassed and betrayed and angry and disappointed I felt. It wasn’t worse than losing a dog at all but still my soul was so hurt. It was so weird to me how a close person to you could do something like that to you. I know that it may not be a big deal for someone but it most certainly for me, so it was just the last drop. I could not handle that person who constantly tried to mess me with dirt. No. I didn't deserve that. Definitely.

Snitches End Up In Ditches

She is a snitch and she is going to end up in a ditch. Or better to say she has already ended up in ditches. My dear sister. The first thing I want to tell you is that I’m not a psycho or at least I don’t think so. All of these decisions are hard for me. Really hard. My hands and legs are shaking for weeks before and after what I do. I always regret what I’ve done. I always cry about it. But they deserved that. And if you don’t agree with me, fine, it’s okay. No one is supposed to agree with me. You have the right to have your own opinion.

But let’s focus on a more important topic. The way I killed her. It’s not a pleasant moment at all for me. I don’t enjoy such stuff. I didn’t wanna kill her in the first place. But it happened and I couldn’t help it.

I’m not gonna tell all the details since it was a very painful experience for me, even though she was a jerk towards me. In a couple words, I cut her throat. I wanted her to die unpainfully. But something went wrong. She was trying to fight me back and she was suffering for fifteen minutes. Gosh, at that moment I wanted to cut my throat as well. I felt her pain and, I guess, I regretted it 50 times. No one was at home. I predicted that. I threw her body in the woods where he left Vivien. I also was there for five hours and three of them I was looking for my baby dog. No luck, unfortunately.

I went to bed at 3:00 AM and I did not sleep at all. I was crying for three hours and then went to work. I recovered pretty quickly. Took only three weeks. Cops were kind of disappointed in our family. The third person died out of six. I was a good actress though, they did not suspect me at all. They thought it was her boyfriend because he left as soon as she was claimed missing. He knew he did not do anything but he was so scared of the police. I actually don’t know what happened to him. So, yeah, I was the only girl in the family.

CHAPTER FIVE: STEVE

Man, Though Not A Man

Steve was just one year older than me but he strongly believed that since I’m a girl I know nothing about life, challenges, and other bullshit. He always thought that girls are created for love and they cannot perform tasks that are performed by me. He thought that women are different and less sophisticated species and we will never be able to be equal to me. In his opinion, patriarchy helps to “bridle” petulant women. Sexism is okay with him since again women are not that developed creatures. Feminism is bullshit since women are not supposed to have more rights than men. I guess he lost somewhere a definition of feminism. He also thought that lgbtq+ are not people, so he beated them on the streets. He beated them so hard that one guy became blind. It’s actually kind of cool that he did not have education because he would learn politics for sure and become a congressman and would make life of ours worse.

I guess the explanation above kind of wholly describes a person, his views, values, and principals. But here are some facts. He was year older than me and never worked for more than two weeks on one job when I aka stupid girl managed to have one job for five years. He drinks and smokes weed as everyone in this family. But he did not think that women are allowed to do it since they are future mothers. I never tried to drink or smoke but it would be great to mess with him this way. He, as a true man, is interested in cars, beer, and football. He, as a true man, was an abuser as well. His girlfriend was always with cuts and bruises. They hang out in our apartment because both of them cannot rent another one. They ate all the food I bought. They kissed on my bed. They probably had intercourse on my bed. He beated her in front of us. I tried to stop him but he would just hit me as well. I told her 23 times to leave him but she was too afraid that he would kill her and her family. I understood her because a life with an abuser usually looks this way. So I kind of helped her by ending the life of my dear brother. He treated everyone like dirt. Even his girlfriend, a person who you are supposed to love the most in the world. Or maybe he just did not have a heart to feel anything.

Moreover, he quite often hit Vivien. I remember when I was sitting in the kitchen doing my homework and then I heard the loud sound of my dog. I ran to the living room and saw Vivien in the corner and Steve standing over her. I hit him as well, took Vivien in my room and closed the door. How can you hit the dog? Try to fight with someone your complectation. Oh, by the way he was 5’5 which is not a really cool height for a true man. He made fun of me and I made fun of his height. In addition, he was really weak. He did not attend gym, so his upper body strength was kind of smaller than mine. It was cool for me since I could hit him sometimes and get away with it.

We actually were friends when we were six to nine years old. Back then our parents did not make us rivalries as it was with me and Agnes. Therefore, we had a couple of years to live as a family. We played together, went out together, and ate together. We did everything together. I actually do not remember when we got in our first conflicts but I remember that by age of twelve we weren’t friends anymore. Parents also affected this because, as you already know, my mother hated me the most and every kid was on her side. Steve is not an exception. He was kind of a sweet kid when was little. Loved painting cars and people, reading about boys from good families, and going out to play hide and seek.

He was as cruel as Agnes, maybe less but still destroyed many lives. I don’t deserve to live as well as he does not deserve to waste precious air.

Drunk And Stupid

It was, I guess, the most humiliating experience in my life. I have never wanted the floor to swallow me so badly. It was the reason why I had to skip school for almost two weeks. It was the reason why no one in the school wanted to talk to me. It was the reason why some teachers lowered my scores. Thank you once again, Dear Steve. I hope you hear it in hell.

I was in 11th grade back then and he was in the 12th. Senior. He was supposed to graduate and go to college. Steve was supposed to have a better life and, also, moved out of our apartment. But no, he decided to be a cool boy, an unrestrained boy, a boy who is loved by dozens of girls. He always wanted to be an alpha male. It lives in his blood rent-free. He tried to impress not just girls but boys as well. He was kind of a narcissist, so it was expected. He cursed a lot, fought a lot, and was a jerk a lot. At some point, he acted a little bit like Jess from Gilmore Girls. Jess was a jerk.

So, let’s get to the point. He always tried to impress someone. And, once, he was at a party where some guys who truly did not like him forced him to drink almost a gallon of beer. You know what? He did it. He drank 3.5 liters of beer. I always thought that it was impossible or at least you die. If you thought that it was impossible, take my word. He was so drunk. He did so much shit at that party. Guys tried to make him fall asleep, but they could not. I was at that party and saw his wild behavior and everyone saw his wild behavior.

Here is the damage that he made in a form of a list:

Broke the table in the kitchen. That table was really fancy and big, by the way. I personally did not see how he did it. But there were dozens of people, so they told me that he was trying to repeat the dance of Juls from 10 things I hate about you. He did not consider the fact that he is fat and if you jump, you can break things. The cost he should've repaid was $1350 and it was kind of a blessing because that table cost over $4000. Guess who paid for that? Yep, that was me.

Cut the sofa with a knife. You read it right. He took a knife and cut the most expensive sofa I’ve ever seen fourteen times. He thought that some treasure was hidden there. I was there and I tried to stop him. I was the only person who tried to stop him. Everyone just stared and laughed and took pictures. I did not pay for that. I was lucky that Jim's parents were sensible people and they knew about my situation, so they told me not to pay anything. Steve got a job and paid for all the damage, excluding the table in the kitchen. I just felt bad for not paying anything.

Four vases in the garden. Four of the most sophisticated vases I’ve ever seen. They were fabulous and expensive. $500 for each.

Do you think it was the whole damage he made? No. No. People don’t kill others for such stuff. You need more. And I got more the next day.

It was a beautiful morning on October 23rd. I was sitting in my AP English class and guess who came. Steve. No, it wasn’t his class. He had never taken even IB classes. He came loaded, wasted, drunk, and all adjectives you can remember about a drunk person.

He went into the room and threw up. Fortunately, did not on someone. And here’s the conversation between him and people in the classroom.

“Get out of here, young boy.” said the teacher.

“Shut up. I just had a bad night.”

“See yourself out of this class, Steve,” I yelled.

“Okay, Gimme money.”

“I’m not your mommy to give you money.”

“Both out of the classroom.” The teacher yelled.

“Why? I didn’t do anything. I tried to help. Please.”

“She tried to help!” said Steve.

He started reaching the teacher and, I swear, my whole life went in front of my eyes. He could do whatever you can possibly imagine.

“She tried to help you get me out of this room. And you said that she should leave as well? Have you lost your mind?”

“Stop it, Steve. I’m already on my way. No need for conflicts.”

“Listen to your sister.”

“He’s not my brother.”

As soon as I opened the door, I heard a really loud slap. I turned around and saw a teacher lying on the floor. He hit her so hard that he fell. Moreover, he took her purse and ran out of the classroom.

“You idiot, come back!”

Everyone started laughing. I followed him to get the purse back. Otherwise, we would’ve been both thrown from this school to jail. I was faster and stronger than him, so I reached him and fought the pursue back. I came back to the classroom and gave the purse to the teacher.

“I am so sorry for his behavior. Believe me, I did not want that to happen.”

A tense pause.

“Get out of here. You’re gonna leave this school right away.”

“Please-”

“I don’t want to listen to you. Get out. You’re gonna talk with a headmaster.”

I took a deep breath and went to the office of the headmaster. “It’s a public school. No one is going to blame me for what I did not do,” thought my silly head.

I was wrong. In two words I was dismissed from school for ten work days. No matter how hard I tried, no one wanted to listen to me.

And Steve was excluded from the school and decided not to graduate. Cool. I have to take care of one more morron. When I got home, he wouldn’t speak with me. I tried to explain it to my parents but they wouldn’t listen. I felt so bad. I always wanted to graduate school and this situation just proved to me one more time that I was not capable of doing it. No one in my family was capable of doing it. It just lives in our blood, genes or whatever.

To cut to the chase, I came back to school after those two weeks. It was kind of hard to focus when everyone, including teachers, tried to mock you. However, I handled it. I had no intention to give up on my dream, so I pushed it. After three weeks or so everyone sort of forgot it.

But that situation, I guess, took five years out of my life. I was so stressed out for over a month. It’s okay now. He did not even once say sorry. He did not try to be nice to me even a little. He treated me like dirt. I was so sick of this. He thought that he was a man and men are not supposed to make women happy. Gosh, I bet he died a virgin. Little moron.

Another Pity Situation

Small incidents can happen. It’s a part of our lives. We all make mistakes and it’s expected. We cannot be perfect, do everything right, and live a life without being adventurous. However, sometimes small incidents grow into bigger ones and it makes everyone around so uncomfortable that killing is the only way out. I swear. I know that murdering someone is because of small things, such as being a jerk, throwing up in the classroom, or stealing a teacher’s purse. No. It’s okay to do this stuff. It’s totally normal. No killing for being a little adventurous but when a person is doing stuff that is considered a misdemeanor or even crime, I can easily end the life of this person and make them end up in jail for plenty of reasons.

Actually stealing someone’s purse is kind of illegal, so it’s already making me put someone in jail. However, it was just, I don’t know how to say, the beginning. What he did next would make everyone go crazy, insane, mad.

Since the beginning of high school I had been saving money for college. I knew that it was the only way for me to get out of that apartment, town, and life. During those four years I did not buy any unnecessary stuff for myself. I did not buy new clothes, shoes, various food, supplies for school (my classmates gave me), just everything that comes to mind. I only bought a laptop for better work, and something more but I don’t remember exactly. I saved $60,000. And it was not the end. I had like six, seven months more. However, it’s not enough, but I considered taking a loan, working on campus, and winning scholarships. “I am a smart girl. I am going to handle it,” I thought. However, everything turned out differently. Very differently. Thanks to my dear brother!

I found missing money on January the 4th. I do not celebrate New Years, so it was not me drunk who did this. That day I got a salary and wanted to keep 70% of it. I went to my money-saving place. There was not even a cent. There was literally nothing but wind. I sat there in complete silence, not realizing what was happening. I thought that it was just a prank, and someone would come to me and say “Oh my God, you bought the joke. Here is your money.” But it did not happen in 2 minutes. It did not happen in 5 minutes. In 15 minutes. 30 minutes. 1 hour. I was sitting there waiting for a miracle. I skipped everything in the next 12 hours. I did not cry. Did not sulk. I was just waiting. Who could take my money? It’s really an immense amount.

After 12 hours I came to mind. I started asking everyone whether they took my money. Everyone said no. As always no one wanted to help me. I thought it was Agnes, but it was not her. I believed her. And then I noticed $100 at Steve's desk. He never has money. Especially such a big amount. He was not home and I had no idea where he went, so I decided to wait at home. He came in 3 hours. I came to him and started asking questions. I don't remember which exactly but he didn’t answer any of them. He was acting like I’m insane but I knew I was right. He said that those $100 are his because he earned them. Of course, he did not earn them. I couldn’t crack him, so I decided to compromise.

“If you tell me where my money is, I will give you 10% of it. It’s $6,000. Think about it.”, said me, thinking that he wouldn’t refuse this offer.

“It’s actually a really generous offer and I would accept it if I had that money.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t have my money?”

“I did have them, but currently I do not possess them.”

“What did you do?”

“I bought a car.”

He has no compassion towards anybody. Steve was standing in front of me and smiling and smiling. He could not close his mouth. And I was about to burst into tears.

“I don’t believe you. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not.”

“How could the idea of taking someone’s money come to the head of anybody? It wasn't yours. You know that it’s a crime? And you can go to jail?

“You have no evidence. Therefore, I won’t be sitting in jail, sweety.”

“Why would you do that? You know this money for college.”

“You really think you can get into college? Not even community college will take you. All you do is try to escape this world. You are trying to forget who you are. You think that college will help you? No. They don't need people like us, they don’t need people like you. You just have to realize that we are who we are.”

“It’s bullshit. Many people like us get into colleges and start a new life. You think that it’s impossible because you are a lazy asshole and did nothing valuable in your pathetic life. That's why you think it’s not for us.”

“Think whatever you want. Anyway you have no money. So forget it.”

I was in shock. This guy had no dignity, kindness, sincerity. He just took my money and bought a freaking car. He didn’t even have a driver’s licence.

To cut to the chase, I spent two month looking for justice. Police refused to help me since it was a family incident and we have to handle it on our own. Moreover, I couldn’t find any evidence and couldn’t sell that car. Therefore, I had to accept the loss. Actually, I did it okay because I still had the opportunity to apply for college for the next year, save even more money, and make my application better. There’s no need to cry because of the past.

However, I had a revenge. Since I had nothing to lose, I decided to destroy the car. He left nothing for me, and I left nothing for him. I took a hammer and broke all the windows. I took the paint and painted it in red and left a note “THIEF”. Then I slashed the tires, tore up all the furniture in the salon and filled it with gasoline, but I didn’t light it on fire. It would be too much. Also I videotaped it. You should have seen his face. Gosh, he started crying, cursing, and doing everything you can possibly imagine. Then he started screaming my name and I came out.

“You have such a lovely car, sweety.”

“What is freaking wrong with you?” he started approaching me.

I pulled out a gun.

“Stay away from me, bastard. You took not just my money but a dream. You did not buy this car for your money. You stole them. You are insane, not me. And if you do something bad to me again, I will kill you, sweete. You heard me?”

Silence.

“You heard me, bastard?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Fine. Now go and throw away this garbage.”

Lucky He, No Suffering

He didn't do anything after that of course. I killed him, so that he wouldn’t hurt anybody anymore. I knew he would do something even worse to me, to someone I was friends with. You maybe won’t understand me and it’s okay. Everyone has their own values. I was already a killer. And it wasn’t that hard for me.

It was two weeks after destroying a car. I forced him to drink 20 pills of some garbage. As I said before, in order to protect yourself, the gym should be your lovely friend. I was way stronger than him, so it wasn’t hard. I have no idea whether he suffered or not. I am still a human being, so I hope he did not. I, as always, got away with it because he always had been talking about suicide. So it seemed like suicide. Nothing personal. I was just the first to notice. Called the ambulance and cried as ugly as possible. I was a good actress by the way.

I honestly hate the person I turned to but there was no way back and I had to accept it. He was a jerk, Agnes was a jerk, mother was a jerk, but I was the biggest jerk known in the history of this world. I have no idea how I survived there.

CHAPTER SIX: ILON

A Total Mess

Let me present to you the biggest mistake of God. Ilon.

If you ever found comments on Instagram about how bad someone looks or threats below a feminism/lgbtq+ post, such men as Ilon could write it. He strongly considers himself a genuine man. He is the oldest sibling in the family and the dumbest by the way. Ilon is forty one years old and has 0 years of life experience. He is six point two feet which was really inappropriate for me since he beated me really badly. For some time his countenance was looking kind of great and normal, but then he started using drugs and currently he literally looks like ugly piece of shit.

He smokes and drinks like hell. Works nowhere, does not have a girlfriend who would lead him to a better life. He did have one by the way. However, the way he treats women and people as a whole is disgusting, thus, he had a girlfriend for ten days or so.

Racist, sexist, homophobe, and everything you can come up with. He hates everyone and thinks that all people surrounding are stupid as hell. Considering the fact that this alfa male did not attend even high school, I bet he as stupid as everyone in this family, including me of course. I’m not better than them.

He is that kind of guy who would rape you if you were drunk. Even if you are his sister. He is that kind of guy who would take your car without permission and get into a car accident. Even if you are his only friend. He is that kind of guy who would curse you and beat you in the supermarket for saying one wrong word. Even if you are his mother. He is that kind of guy who would mock you in front of your friends to look better on your background. Even if you are his father.

He destroys every single relationship he gets into. He is not able to maintain even a conversation with his own friend. He always has to show that he is the best, smartest, strongest, wittest, more hardworking, and so on. None of those are true. He is not the best in comparison to anybody. Think. He killed sparrows with bare hands for fun. He is an abuser to people around. He is not the smartest even in the circle of his friend where you can encounter only dumb asses. He is not the wittest. He couldn’t come up with the idea of how to share eight slices of pizza among three personas. And how can a person be the most hardworking if he has never got a job or even has not graduated high school? Tell me please.

I am truly disappointed in him and I am also disappointed in myself for how I could let this person do all the bad stuff he has done. I could stop him at some points of his pathetic life. I was just too freaking scared to have anything to do with him since he was more superior than me. I was a little scared kitty could not stand for herself or weaker.

He mentally and physically destroyed me and my soul. He took power over me and destroyed me. I cannot forgive myself for letting him do it. He was the worst man in the family. Whilst Steve or father did not beat me when I was a kid, he beat me as hard as possible. He hated girls and wanted to teach me how cruel our world is. He would beat my dog as well. He uses physical power when cannot get what he wants. He did it even with his own mother or father. They were scared of him as everyone in the family. I am more than sure that he has got loads and loads of mental problems.

You may have noticed that I’m using present tenses. That’s because he is alive. My various attempts to kill him were kind of a failure and he almost killed me in response. I bet if he was less tall, I would kill him one hundred percent. He got away with every crime he has done. I am the one who sits in jail. I came clean because that is the right thing to do. He otherwise has a different opinion on this. He got away with everything. He does not pay for even one sin of his. I genuinely wanted him to suffer as he deserves to but I did not know how to do it. And I still don’t.

No Life For Little Girls

As I said before, this wackadoodle hates women, especially little and innocent girls who just turn six. I have never seen a man or any person at all who would hate these girls so much. He literally cannot stand them. He turns into a monster around them, wanting to hit them, beat, harass, curse, and everything you can imagine.

Imagine how he lived when there were two little girls in the house plus one woman who gave birth to these weird creatures. He actually beated the mother when found out that she was having a girl. Twice. And, also, did not want to let her get into the house with a born girl. Like, boyyy. You came out of a woman. If there was no woman, no man would have been alive.

I don’t want to make a scene out of it, so I am going to be as short as possible.

When I was six years old, he was perhaps the coldest person to me in the world. He never helped me with homework, escorted to school, or went out with me. No matter how much mother would ask, he always refused to have anything to do with me or my sister. However, once he agreed to go out with me for one hour. I repeat that I was still six years old. I was really surprised as well as every single soul in this family.

“Are you really going to play with her? Or just throw it somewhere to forget?” was the question from the mother.

“Shut up and piss off. I am not going to do anything bad.”

“Okay. Okay. No problem.”

The next fact that surprised and disappointed me was that he dressed me. And then we went out. We were supposed to play in the neighborhood, however, this person took me somewhere far and far away.

“Where are we going? Aren’t we supposed to play near the house?” asked scared me.

“Do you really wanna play there?”

“I don’t know. It’s the only place where I played.”

“I’m gonna show you the place where it’s one hundred percent more interesting to play. You will like it.”

“Okay. But let’s not go somewhere really far away. I’m scared.”

“Shut up. Everything’s gonna be just fine. Why are you scared ahead of time? It's a rhetorical question. Don’t answer.”

“What does a rhetorical question mean?”

“You really don’t know?”

“I’m six.”

“I knew it when I was six. It means that you, girl, are kind of less smarter than me, boy.”

“Mother said that being smart does not depend on whether you are a girl or a boy.”

“She’s a woman. She does not want to lose. Also, it’s just a type of consolation for women, saying that you can be as smart as men.”

“So women are not that good to compare with me?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. See, it was always this way. Men were always dominants, while women were kind of under or behind men. Try to picture your mother and father. Who is taller and bigger?”

“Father.”

“See? Men are always bigger and taller than women, Women are petite and fragile. It’s actually not always the case because some women are bigger, but it means that they will be pariahs. No one will want to play with you.”

“But I don’t want to be petite and fragile. I want to be like superwoman. Strong, powerful, ambitious, confident-”

“Shut up. You have no idea what you are talking about. It’s just an imaginary movie that was created by women to feel those feelings for a couple of minutes. But it’s not reality. In reality, if you do not obey a man, you are nothing.”

“Okay. I understand you. Does our mom know about it?”

“She’s learning. But she knows it as perfectly as you. Every woman knows it. It was in their blood for generations.”

“Where is your place? We have been going there for fifteen minutes already.”

“One more minute.”

I vividly remember our path and that place. We were going there for more than fifteen minutes. I have never been there before. We stopped in the really scary neighborhood. There was no really great children's playground. Only one swings and that was it.

“There is nothing to play with. What are we going to do here?”

“We’re gonna make our own seesaw. Okay?”

“Okay. But how?”

“We will need a board that we will place balanced on this small fence.”

We did everything and our seesaw was ready. Then we started playing. I was sitting on one side, and Ilon on the other side moved the board up and down. It was actually kind of funny. We created our own seesaw. I had never done that before with my mother. I was smiling, laughing, and having genuinely the best time.

However, it was not what it looked like. It was set up to do bad stuff towards me as a girl. After three minutes on seesaw he released the board when I was at the highest point. I fell on the ground and started screaming really, really loudly. I was crying and feeling so much pain in my right hand. It was the pain I have never felt before. I was six, so it was a new experience for me and I have no idea what to do. When I started screaming Ilon, Ilon, he was not there. I did not notice when he left and why he did it. I thought he went for the ambulance and decided to lay on the ground and wait.

Almost thirty minutes went by and he did not come back yet. I did not know what to do at all. I felt so desperate at that moment, realising that I was not able to help myself. It was a strange neighbourhood. I knew no one there. I had no idea how to get home because I forgot some turns, plus I would need to cross the street. I really thought I would die there. However, I was lucky that one mother with her son was passing by and noticed me, lying on the ground and crying. I told them everything and they got me to the hospital where a doctor put gypsum on my hand. I knew the number of my mother, so a woman called her and told everything about what happened. She came as soon as possible and took me home.

Ilon was at home, playing some video games.

“Have you lost your mind, boy? You broke her arm? Are you insane? You are a grown up man and cannot behave around a 6-year-old girl?” was the question of my mother.

“Don’t you dare to yell at me. I taught her an extremely valuable lesson.”

“And what is the lesson?”

“She had to feel pain. Real pain. Not the sulk when you did not buy her a candy.”

Silence. I was standing there and hardly holding my tears. I remembered everything he said. My mother was standing in shock there as well.

“Are you serious?”

“As never before.”

“You broke the arm of a 6-year-old girl, so that she felt real pain?”

“Yes.”

“You are thirty five years old. You are a grown up man. Are you freaking insane? You didn’t break your arm to feel that pain. Why did you do it to her?

“I am a man for God’s sake. She is a girl. You women never felt real pain. You have no idea how cruel this world is. You see everything through pink glasses-”

“That’s not true, you freaking sexist.”

“That’s the only response you can come up with.”

“She cannot do anything without right hand. Do you offer your help wiping her butt?”

“That’s not my problem anymore.”

He came to me and sat on his knees.

“How bad was your pain?” he asked me, looking evilly in my eyes.

I was six years old but that did not mean that I couldn’t lie. I did it pretty well. Circumstances taught me.

“I felt no pain, jerk.”

“See, she won’t be like other weak girls if you’re gonna treat her stricter.”

He went away and there were me and my mother. She stood there, trying to grasp something. I guess she thought about what Ilon had said. Then she looked at me.

“I guess he’s right.”

It was the point of no return when she started to hate me and treat me worse. He destroyed my relationship with my mother. It was already enough to end his life.

How Much I Can Bear

I thought, and you probably did as well, that breaking an arm for someone who is not you is kind of crazy. Especially if that person is four times smaller and younger than you. And your sister. You have absolutely no right to hurt another person. I said five hundred eighty seven times that you are forbidden to hurt anyone. Why do people think that they are the goddess and can do whatever their bright mind can come up with? It is absolute nonsense. Don’t you dare to tell me otherwise.

I actually have no idea where I am supposed to start. His actions, I guess, had many reasons. Overall hate towards me made him do it. I don’t think it was one thing.

For instance, he hates that girls have to get themselves together before going out way longer than men. He once threw away my hairdryer, so that I didn’t use it and spent less time on preparation when he had to take me to school. In my own defence I will say that I was always on time and he never had to wait for me. He just wanted to get going ten or even fifteen minutes earlier. Plus, I had to go on the streets with wet hair, therefore, I got sick all the time. Or he would tear either my dresses and skirts or pants. He explained that I have to choose who I want to be. I am either a fragile lady with all the manners who wears only feminine clothes with no pants or I am a tomboy with an extremely short haircut who wears nothing but a hoodie and pants. Nothing of these two options could satisfy him because ladies are nothing but his accessory and tomboys are just a wrong interpretation of girls. Also, he would hit me if I curse, because apparently girls cannot curse. It does not fit their nature. A hell lotta things about women’s nature drives him crazy.

So, let us already cut to the chase. I was thirteen when it happened. Quite a traumatic experience by the way. October 13th. I am heading home from school in a pretty great mood because no one had bullied me, plus, I got A+ or something like that. It was kind of a great feeling, you know. However, I did not reach the house in that amazing mood. On halfway when I turned to the calm street five boys attacked me. They were about fifteen to sixteen. I didn't really get the chance to look at them clearly, but they were way taller than me but still not grown men. It was the only thing about that.

“Help me. Help me.” I started screaming really, really loudly, so that someone would help me.

A tip for those who want to protect themselves in such situations: scream Fire, Fire because people are not gonna help you to get out of the hands of maniak or something like that. Why would they jeopardize their lives for a stranger? So, as you can guess, no one helped me. There were two big men but they got scared of five teenagers. Happens to everyone.

“Shut up, sweetie.”

It was kind of disappointing since I always call people sweetie.

“Don’t make any wrong moves or we’re gonna kill you.”

“You really gonna hit a girl who is way smaller and younger than you for nothing?”

“Why for nothing? Your brother paid each of us $20.”

“You really tell me that your dignity costs $20?”

I shouldn’t have said that. I never could learn when is the right moment to shut my mouth. They hit me a couple of times for this.

“So, listen carefully. We here have a plan. Or to be more specific, your dear brother gave us a plan and we are going to stick to it. It’s actually pretty rough, so if you want to save your disgusting face, don’t say anything that can offend us. Got it?”

“If I say that you all look like pieces of shit and act like pieces of shit, will you hit me?”

I have no idea why I doubted them. They were pretty much loyal to Ilon.

“Let’s put aside our emotions and all the other stuff. Why don’t you listen to your brother?”

“Is that really your question? Don’t you think that it’s kind of messed up that a thirty-year-old man asks a bunch of teenagers to beat his 13-year-old sister? Is that okay with you?”

“Is that your answer?”

“No, no. Lemme finish. So, why do I disobey my dear brother who put so much effort and time into raising me? Huh, there are several compelling reasons. The first one is that he is not my mommy and daddy to even listen to him. I owe him nothing and he just uses the fact that he’s bigger and stronger than me. And the second reason is that what he wants me to hear is nonsense. He wants me to be a feminine and fragile girl whose only destiny is to find a husband. No matter what the person he is. Just a husband. Oh, also, he treats me like shit. And there’s no way that I will treat him with respect. No way. That is my answer, you bastards.”

“Great. We are, by the way, audiotaping it, so that he could listen and analyze your answers.”

“Okay. My pleasure. Do I only need to answer questions?”

“No. There will be only one more question and after that I will tell you what’s next. So, why didn’t you go to the kickboxing lessons with your brother when he asked you to?”

“Oh, my God. He is insane.”

“You are really looking for problems. Just answer the question.”

“I did not and still do not want to do kickboxing. I do not find this kind of sport particularly appealing to me. Is that clear?”

“That’s it. Now we need to make a scar on your cheek and cut your hair really short since you don't define yourself as a woman.”

“I do define myself as a woman!”

“Then why do you curse and wear pants?”

“If you think so, then there’s no woman on Earth.”

“Whatever. Tip for you: don’t try to make it harder.”

I decided to stay calm and not make it harder for myself. I knew that there was no way for me to escape that situation. They laughed and mocked me all the way through. Real gentlemen.

“How short do you want your hair?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Hahahaha. No, of course, you shitty bitch.”

They cut my hair extremely short and ugly. They did not do that to complete the task but to laugh and use me. They firstly cut my bangs. Actually, a couple of times in different styles. Then cut me almost bald in some places and in some places left long hair. It was humiliating. I have never felt such shame. I wanted to pass out there and forget what had happened.

“And the last task and you are free is getting you a scar. Your brother is actually a saint. He said that we can only do a beautiful and small scar on the cheek of your choice. You can choose. Give you ten seconds, and then we do whatever we want.”

“Left one.”

“Why left?”

“Because I chose so.”

“Okay, honey. Let’s do the left cheek. I actually have never cut anyone, so I have no idea how deep I should cut, with which pace, knife-”

“You, five grown boys, genuinely enjoy harassing a single person who is weaker than you, don’t you?”

“Piss off with your stupid philosophy. No one needs it here. Especially you.”

“Do it already and let me go.”

I felt that they were kind of offended by my words. They did not want to stop. I bet if he told them to kill me, these bastards would kill me, but before they would mock me, harass me, and maybe do sadistic actions towards my body.

They cut not a really beautiful and small scar. Moreover, on the right cheek. That dude is one hundred percent had childhood traumas.

“Why would you cut it in the right cheek when I clearly said on the left one?”

“You disobey too much.”

“Gosh. It's the twenty-first century. I am not a property of yours to disobey you.”

“Shut up, sweetie. That’s it. We’re gonna get going and you head home right away.”

They released me and I fell on the ground and covered my face. I wanted to wait when they would go far away from me. When they were like a mile ahead of me, I got up and ran home as quickly as possible. I cried, cursed, and thought about my pathetic life where my, not strange, family wanted to take control over me. When I got home, there was only Ilon. I was scared to be in the apartment with this jerk by myself. I decided to be strong and fearless and resist him.

“Why would you do this to me?” asked me with rege in the eyes.

“I’m glad you went through it. It is an important experience of my life.”

“It does not explain anything.”

“Why? You gave pretty spicy answers and got physical pain. What everyone should feel on Earth. As God said “We should go through pain every single day and suffer every single day in order to have peace in the afterlife.”

“A bunch of teenagers beat and mocked me. You let them do it. You paid them, Gosh. It must be so humiliating for you.”

“No, it was not. You just, sweetie, cannot get the fact that if you are a woman, you are supposed to be a woman. If you were, they wouldn’t have touched you.”

“It’s nonsense. There’s no such rule.”

“If you live around me, you must follow the rules.”

“They got me a scar. And when I asked them to do it on the left cheek, they did it on the right one.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I will handle this. Now you can go and rest. Tomorrow you can start your feminine life if you do not want something worse to happen to you.”

“Are you serious? I don’t know exactly what rules to follow.”

“Here’s them,” he gave me a bunch of sheets of paper, “follow these rules.”

I was shocked and disappointed. I clearly did not want to follow any silly rules. However, I did not wanna be beaten up as well. There was only one way to live a peaceful life in that house. That way is to obey the members of the family. To cut the story short, yes. I followed the rules. It was humiliating. That’s it.

Failed Attempts

As I said earlier, I was not able to kill that piece of garbage. I tried twice and then he tried to kill me twice. Sounds like a love troupe from haters to lovers but it was disgusting in real life. He still lives on this planet. Getting away with everything, wandering somewhere.

The first attempt was two weeks after the incident described above. I simply couldn’t stand his loe to power and control. I’m a free person. I have a job and pay for all our bills, food, clothes, and so on. And you forbid me from wearing pants? How can that happen?

So, let’s cut to the chase. The first attempt was to poison him because he was strong and too big to kill him the way I killed the other members. However, it was still extremely hard to find poison that would not be noticable in his body if he would be examined. I’m not gonna tell you which poison and where I took it for your own safety but it was the most expensive one and the most unreachable one if I can say it.

So, I need to poison him without him noticing the taste or something like that. A fortunate fact for me is that he always takes a big bottle of water when he’s going to sleep and drinks it before, during, and after sleep. That’s why I thought it would be easy.

On September 25th, he was at work really late. Roughly till 2:00 AM, so I pretended to fall asleep. When he came back, he went straight to the bed and fell asleep. I decided to wait for thirty or fourty minutes to let him turn off completely, assuming that he was exhausted at work and would easily fall asleep. Then I measured the poison, so that it wouldn’t be too much or too little. And then I went to the room where he and Steve were sleeping. His bottle of water was lying right next to him. I really quietly entered the room and reached his bed. Gently took his bottle, opened it, and was putting poison there. Here’s where I got problems. Steve woke up and started talking with his normal voice which was really loud for the night and my mission started to ask me questions like What are you doing? What is that in your hands? That was the moment when Ilon woke up and noticed me. He saw what I was doing and grabbed me. He was trying to put that poison in my mouth but I closed it really hard and he couldn’t open it. Steve was looking at this scene and yelling Ilon, Ilon, Ilon, while I was trying to survive. After seven minutes or so he released me.

“I’m gonna kill you when you are truly not noticing it.”

It scared me. It really scared me because after that he made my life even worse. He always tried to do some shit to me. Fun fact: it was a katalizator for my reason to come clean. In jail he won’t bother me, so it was like a bonus.

The second failed time when I wanted to kill him was in one year. I was fourteen trying to kill a grown man who was constantly abusing me. I wanted a better life for myself and you cannot judge me because you have never been in a situation like this. I tried to do what was in my opinion the best for me.

On August 31th I wanted to shoot him in the abandoned area where he comes back from work. Kind of extreme but I was so desperate that I didn't even care if I was going to be caught. So I bought a license and a gun with a fake name and different face (different haircut, color of the hair, contacts of blue eyes, and was dressed like an emo). It went successfully by the way.

I did a tremendous amount of research. I learned his schedule, his friends and co-workers. Their ways towards home. I examined that street and people who usually pass by, so that there would be no witnesses. It was my last chance to kill him. I knew that I wouldn't be able to try one more attempt. As a result, I spent like a month on all that stuff to be prepared for the worst.

That day he also was supposed to finish his work at 2:00 AM. Therefore, I left home with an excuse that I was going on a sleepover to Jane who lived far away from that place. Moreover, I posted a story that I was with her. So the beginning was kind of okay. I reached that place around 1:30 AM, prepared everything and started waiting.

In forty minutes everything went wrong. As I found out later, Ilon knew about all of this. He had connected my phone profile to his phone and was able to watch all the stuff I had on my phone, including search history, notes, social media, photos, and so on. Therefore, he knew every single detail about this attempt. He knew about a gun, fake license, and time when I was supposed to shoot him.

Long story short. I noticed him walking down the street. One, two, three. The bullets were supposed to go through his body and he was supposed to be dead. However, as I pulled the trigger, no bullets were in my gun. I guess it was him who took all of them. The click was really loud, so he heard where I was hiding. He quickly ran away in my direction and I started to run away from him. I have never in my life been more extreme. My whole life was passing by me as I tried to survive that night. I already regret making the decision to kill him. I should have waited when I would leave for college and that would be it. He wouldn’t bother me there.

But let’s come back to the chase. I thought I would be faster than him since I ran every morning, however, he was faster. It was really hard to keep a safe distance with him. No soul was on the street, so no one would help me or him. It was good I guess since I was the one with the gun. In approximately five minutes he caught me and threw me on the ground. He took away my gun and tried to choke me. I hit him in the head with my fist and I got a few seconds to escape. No luck. He started to beat me in the face and abdomen. It was really painful. I, in response, threw sand in him but it made him angrier. As a result, I was woefully beaten up and left there.

It was my last attempt. Lucky me, he did not kill me. I came back home and cried myself to sleep. Still, I wanted revenge, even a little, so I decided to delete all my stuff from his phone and computer, so that he didn’t have kompromat on me. I did it successfully when he was in the shower. He found out about it but the outcomes were great. He hit me only once.

The story with my brother ends here because after that I did not do any bad stuff towards him in order to save my life. Plus, I realized that killing him is not worth sitting in jail.

CHAPTER FOUR: BOSS

That Lovely Man

The only good and truly great person that was in my life is Bob (it's a made-up name, so that my actions won’t hurt him). He is that person who is a genuine human. He acts like a real gentleman. He speaks like a real gentleman. He is kind towards all alive creatures. He is generous towards poor people. He is smart and witty. He is hardworking and affable, agreeable, amiable, charming, polite, considerate, sympathetic, understanding, diplomatic, impartial,sincere, straight-forward, trustworthy, and loyal. He collected all the values of a true person and man. However, maybe he’s not. Maybe I made it all up. I have no idea what to believe in previous and present circumstances. He was that only great person in my life, so maybe I idolize him. But the fact is still the fact that he has never hurt me and was always gentle towards me. He treated me as his own daughter he has never had. He always laughed with me as with his dear wife he lost over seven years ago. He communicated with me as with his friend whom he considered equally smart and important. He completely respected me as he respected his own mother. He carefully listened to me like he was listening to his own father. He was extremely polite towards me as I was a customer in his supermarket.

I want to say sorry for everything I have done. Bob, you always wanted to make me a better person with all the values and manners. I know how much you tried to wean me from cursing. You put so much effort into that. You did a tremendous amount of great things for me. I always wanted to pay you back. And I promise that I will. I hope that you live on the same address, so that I could come to you under my sentence. In addition, I want to apologize that I lied to you and did not tell all the stuff that was going on with me when you asked me to.

I remember being a 12-year-old coming to your supermarket with my absolutely empty resume. It was a rainy day. I was crying because my mother beat me for not earning money. I came to you and was absolutely sure that you would kick me out. I was ready for that. However, I was not ready for your warm greetings. Everyone back then considered me a ragged person. Even I did it. But you showed kindness and I really appreciate it. You gave the job as a cashier and it truly meant a lot to me. Seven employees before your offer said that I was not going to get a job anywhere in that city. They can suck. Thank you a lot.

Also, you were the one who helped me to pay the debts of my dear family. Partially, by offering more shifts or paying from your own pocket. I remember that I still owe you $17,000. I will pay them all.

You were the one who genuinely believed that I would get into college, graduate college, and find a fine job with an above the average salary. Or just average:)

You were the one who would comfort me when something bad was happening with my family. You said all the best words to me. You never let me sleep on the street by offering a shelter in the face of your house. You have a lovely apartment by the way. I’m sure you will find peace and love in your life because you genuinely deserve it. You made my life easier and I have no idea what I would do without you. I know that I otherwise made your life harder. I’m sorry about that. Hope you will forgive me. Thanks for everything. You showed me that there is brightness in the world.

CHAPTER FOUR: FLORENCE

A.K.A. Nothing

Now, let me show you the worst character of this story. My name is Florence Walker. I am currently twenty one years old and I am sitting in prison. The only thing that I will say in my defence and it's an extremely small one is that I came clean willingly. I always wanted to be a great person. However, rage lives in my blood and I was not able to control it. In retrospect, I realize that totally all my actions were wrong. Each one. I’m not a God to decide people’s destiny. I cannot decide when a person’s life ends. It is not how things work. I think my willingness is the only good thing about me.

I came clean with four murders. However, it was evaluated as my own defence. Therefore, they gave most a life sentence but a 15-year-old term. It’s pretty great, isn’t it? Considering how I killed them, why I killed them and that it wasn’t particularly self defense, I got a damn good term. Could’ve been longer.

I started writing this book two months after getting here. Considering the childish level of language, plot, etc, it took me only three months. However, I want to grow, so it’s not my last book. I want to be a writer. Here I’m going to study basics, and then want to get into a college writing program. I will have a good life ahead of me if I do not mess up things here. I’m trying to change some aspects of my character.

I actually for a long time didn’t think that I would survive in the real world as an adult because I always tell what I think and I am kind of extreme in my views. I told my mother plenty of times that it is not right to beat your kids, that it is not okay to force children to take sides. My character always wanted to be the right version and the perfect version of a person. I never wanted to lie. I never wanted to be a fraud. Funny, considering four murders.

I had a quite disgusting life and that’s the reason why I’m the way I am. I do not think I would be a particularly bad person if I was a daughter of Jenifer Eniston.

I was constantly abused by each member of my family in any possible way. My father, mother, sister, two brothers, they used to mock me every single day. They would beat me if I didn't get them enough money. I dropped out of school in order to make more money. I worked since twelve because my parents brought nothing home and I wanted to eat something. I never slept more than seven hours. I had to go to the gym in order to be strong. Four times per week I exercised. That’s the reason why I wasn’t scared of everyone in the family, excluding Ilon. I even had to work as a stripper to make a hella lotta money. And I was able to do that, however, two times of harassment taught me that it was not worth the money, so I quit. I even once had a sweet boyfriend who turned out to be a total wackadoodle and abuser. He constantly beat hell out of me and cheated on me. I was eighteen and stupid back then. Bob, by the way, helped me out of this situation. It was unbearable. Every time I went to bed I wished I hadn’t woken up. I accumulated so many traumas and childhood issues that I can lend you a couple if you want. I guess if I was examined by a psychologist or psychiatrist, I would be diagnosed with all kinds of disorders.

I did a lot of bad stuff to those people as well. I guess we were worth one another. However, they did not dare to kill anyone.

My story is quite amusing, isn’t it? Some people will find it interesting, some people will find it disgusting. I agree with the latter. I was a disgusting person and I still am. However, I want to give myself a second chance. I usually do not believe that people can change but I’m not ready to give up on my life. I’m still young and have a life ahead of me. It worth a shot. I feel good right now, so I just want you to know that everyone deserves a second chance. Or at least I want to believe so.

Now, let me show you the worst character of this story. My name is Florence Walker. I am currently twenty one years old and I am sitting in prison. The only thing that I will say in my defence and it's an extremely small one is that I came clean willingly. I always wanted to be a great person. However, rage lives in my blood and I was not able to control it. In retrospect, I realize that totally all my actions were wrong. Each one. I’m not a God to decide people’s destiny. I cannot decide when a person’s life ends. It is not how things work. I think my willingness is the only good thing about me.

I came clean with four murders. However, it was evaluated as my own defence. Therefore, they gave most a life sentence but a 15-year-old term. It’s pretty great, isn’t it? Considering how I killed them, why I killed them and that it wasn’t particularly self defense, I got a damn good term. Could’ve been longer.

I started writing this book two months after getting here. Considering the childish level of language, plot, etc, it took me only three months. However, I want to grow, so it’s not my last book. I want to be a writer. Here I’m going to study basics, and then want to get into a college writing program. I will have a good life ahead of me if I do not mess up things here. I’m trying to change some aspects of my character.

I actually for a long time didn’t think that I would survive in the real world as an adult because I always tell what I think and I am kind of extreme in my views. I told my mother plenty of times that it is not right to beat your kids, that it is not okay to force children to take sides. My character always wanted to be the right version and the perfect version of a person. I never wanted to lie. I never wanted to be a fraud. Funny, considering four murders.

I had a quite disgusting life and that’s the reason why I’m the way I am. I do not think I would be a particularly bad person if I was a daughter of Jenifer Eniston.

I was constantly abused by each member of my family in any possible way. My father, mother, sister, two brothers, they used to mock me every single day. They would beat me if I didn't get them enough money. I dropped out of school in order to make more money. I worked since twelve because my parents brought nothing home and I wanted to eat something. I never slept more than seven hours. I had to go to the gym in order to be strong. Four times per week I exercised. That’s the reason why I wasn’t scared of everyone in the family, excluding Ilon. I even had to work as a stripper to make a hella lotta money. And I was able to do that, however, two times of harassment taught me that it was not worth the money, so I quit. I even once had a sweet boyfriend who turned out to be a total wackadoodle and abuser. He constantly beat hell out of me and cheated on me. I was eighteen and stupid back then. Bob, by the way, helped me out of this situation. It was unbearable. Every time I went to bed I wished I hadn’t woken up. I accumulated so many traumas and childhood issues that I can lend you a couple if you want. I guess if I was examined by a psychologist or psychiatrist, I would be diagnosed with all kinds of disorders.

I did a lot of bad stuff to those people as well. I guess we were worth one another. However, they did not dare to kill anyone.

My story is quite amusing, isn’t it? Some people will find it interesting, some people will find it disgusting. I agree with the latter. I was a disgusting person and I still am. However, I want to give myself a second chance. I usually do not believe that people can change but I’m not ready to give up on my life. I’m still young and have a life ahead of me. It worth a shot. I feel good right now, so I just want you to know that everyone deserves a second chance. Or at least I want to believe so. Now, let me show you the worst character of this story. My name is Florence Walker. I am currently twenty one years old and I am sitting in prison. The only thing that I will say in my defence and it's an extremely small one is that I came clean willingly. I always wanted to be a great person. However, rage lives in my blood and I was not able to control it. In retrospect, I realize that totally all my actions were wrong. Each one. I’m not a God to decide people’s destiny. I cannot decide when a person’s life ends. It is not how things work. I think my willingness is the only good thing about me.

I came clean with four murders. However, it was evaluated as my own defence. Therefore, they gave most a life sentence but a 15-year-old term. It’s pretty great, isn’t it? Considering how I killed them, why I killed them and that it wasn’t particularly self defense, I got a damn good term. Could’ve been longer.

I started writing this book two months after getting here. Considering the childish level of language, plot, etc, it took me only three months. However, I want to grow, so it’s not my last book. I want to be a writer. Here I’m going to study basics, and then want to get into a college writing program. I will have a good life ahead of me if I do not mess up things here. I’m trying to change some aspects of my character.

I actually for a long time didn’t think that I would survive in the real world as an adult because I always tell what I think and I am kind of extreme in my views. I told my mother plenty of times that it is not right to beat your kids, that it is not okay to force children to take sides. My character always wanted to be the right version and the perfect version of a person. I never wanted to lie. I never wanted to be a fraud. Funny, considering four murders.

I had a quite disgusting life and that’s the reason why I’m the way I am. I do not think I would be a particularly bad person if I was a daughter of Jenifer Eniston.

I was constantly abused by each member of my family in any possible way. My father, mother, sister, two brothers, they used to mock me every single day. They would beat me if I didn't get them enough money. I dropped out of school in order to make more money. I worked since twelve because my parents brought nothing home and I wanted to eat something. I never slept more than seven hours. I had to go to the gym in order to be strong. Four times per week I exercised. That’s the reason why I wasn’t scared of everyone in the family, excluding Ilon. I even had to work as a stripper to make a hella lotta money. And I was able to do that, however, two times of harassment taught me that it was not worth the money, so I quit. I even once had a sweet boyfriend who turned out to be a total wackadoodle and abuser. He constantly beat hell out of me and cheated on me. I was eighteen and stupid back then. Bob, by the way, helped me out of this situation. It was unbearable. Every time I went to bed I wished I hadn’t woken up. I accumulated so many traumas and childhood issues that I can lend you a couple if you want. I guess if I was examined by a psychologist or psychiatrist, I would be diagnosed with all kinds of disorders.

I did a lot of bad stuff to those people as well. I guess we were worth one another. However, they did not dare to kill anyone.

My story is quite amusing, isn’t it? Some people will find it interesting, some people will find it disgusting. I agree with the latter. I was a disgusting person and I still am. However, I want to give myself a second chance. I usually do not believe that people can change but I’m not ready to give up on my life. I’m still young and have a life ahead of me. It worth a shot. I feel good right now, so I just want you to know that everyone deserves a second chance. Or at least I want to believe so. Now, let me show you the worst character of this story. My name is Florence Walker. I am currently twenty one years old and I am sitting in prison. The only thing that I will say in my defence and it's an extremely small one is that I came clean willingly. I always wanted to be a great person. However, rage lives in my blood and I was not able to control it. In retrospect, I realize that totally all my actions were wrong. Each one. I’m not a God to decide people’s destiny. I cannot decide when a person’s life ends. It is not how things work. I think my willingness is the only good thing about me.

I came clean with four murders. However, it was evaluated as my own defence. Therefore, they gave most a life sentence but a 15-year-old term. It’s pretty great, isn’t it? Considering how I killed them, why I killed them and that it wasn’t particularly self defense, I got a damn good term. Could’ve been longer.

I started writing this book two months after getting here. Considering the childish level of language, plot, etc, it took me only three months. However, I want to grow, so it’s not my last book. I want to be a writer. Here I’m going to study basics, and then want to get into a college writing program. I will have a good life ahead of me if I do not mess up things here. I’m trying to change some aspects of my character.

I actually for a long time didn’t think that I would survive in the real world as an adult because I always tell what I think and I am kind of extreme in my views. I told my mother plenty of times that it is not right to beat your kids, that it is not okay to force children to take sides. My character always wanted to be the right version and the perfect version of a person. I never wanted to lie. I never wanted to be a fraud. Funny, considering four murders.

I had a quite disgusting life and that’s the reason why I’m the way I am. I do not think I would be a particularly bad person if I was a daughter of Jenifer Eniston.

I was constantly abused by each member of my family in any possible way. My father, mother, sister, two brothers, they used to mock me every single day. They would beat me if I didn't get them enough money. I dropped out of school in order to make more money. I worked since twelve because my parents brought nothing home and I wanted to eat something. I never slept more than seven hours. I had to go to the gym in order to be strong. Four times per week I exercised. That’s the reason why I wasn’t scared of everyone in the family, excluding Ilon. I even had to work as a stripper to make a hella lotta money. And I was able to do that, however, two times of harassment taught me that it was not worth the money, so I quit. I even once had a sweet boyfriend who turned out to be a total wackadoodle and abuser. He constantly beat hell out of me and cheated on me. I was eighteen and stupid back then. Bob, by the way, helped me out of this situation. It was unbearable. Every time I went to bed I wished I hadn’t woken up. I accumulated so many traumas and childhood issues that I can lend you a couple if you want. I guess if I was examined by a psychologist or psychiatrist, I would be diagnosed with all kinds of disorders.

I did a lot of bad stuff to those people as well. I guess we were worth one another. However, they did not dare to kill anyone.

My story is quite amusing, isn’t it? Some people will find it interesting, some people will find it disgusting. I agree with the latter. I was a disgusting person and I still am. However, I want to give myself a second chance. I usually do not believe that people can change but I’m not ready to give up on my life. I’m still young and have a life ahead of me. It worth a shot. I feel good right now, so I just want you to know that everyone deserves a second chance. Or at least I want to believe so. Now, let me show you the worst character of this story. My name is Florence Walker. I am currently twenty one years old and I am sitting in prison. The only thing that I will say in my defence and it's an extremely small one is that I came clean willingly. I always wanted to be a great person. However, rage lives in my blood and I was not able to control it. In retrospect, I realize that totally all my actions were wrong. Each one. I’m not a God to decide people’s destiny. I cannot decide when a person’s life ends. It is not how things work. I think my willingness is the only good thing about me.

I came clean with four murders. However, it was evaluated as my own defence. Therefore, they gave most a life sentence but a 15-year-old term. It’s pretty great, isn’t it? Considering how I killed them, why I killed them and that it wasn’t particularly self defense, I got a damn good term. Could’ve been longer.

I started writing this book two months after getting here. Considering the childish level of language, plot, etc, it took me only three months. However, I want to grow, so it’s not my last book. I want to be a writer. Here I’m going to study basics, and then want to get into a college writing program. I will have a good life ahead of me if I do not mess up things here. I’m trying to change some aspects of my character.

I actually for a long time didn’t think that I would survive in the real world as an adult because I always tell what I think and I am kind of extreme in my views. I told my mother plenty of times that it is not right to beat your kids, that it is not okay to force children to take sides. My character always wanted to be the right version and the perfect version of a person. I never wanted to lie. I never wanted to be a fraud. Funny, considering four murders.

I had a quite disgusting life and that’s the reason why I’m the way I am. I do not think I would be a particularly bad person if I was a daughter of Jenifer Eniston.

I was constantly abused by each member of my family in any possible way. My father, mother, sister, two brothers, they used to mock me every single day. They would beat me if I didn't get them enough money. I dropped out of school in order to make more money. I worked since twelve because my parents brought nothing home and I wanted to eat something. I never slept more than seven hours. I had to go to the gym in order to be strong. Four times per week I exercised. That’s the reason why I wasn’t scared of everyone in the family, excluding Ilon. I even had to work as a stripper to make a hella lotta money. And I was able to do that, however, two times of harassment taught me that it was not worth the money, so I quit. I even once had a sweet boyfriend who turned out to be a total wackadoodle and abuser. He constantly beat hell out of me and cheated on me. I was eighteen and stupid back then. Bob, by the way, helped me out of this situation. It was unbearable. Every time I went to bed I wished I hadn’t woken up. I accumulated so many traumas and childhood issues that I can lend you a couple if you want. I guess if I was examined by a psychologist or psychiatrist, I would be diagnosed with all kinds of disorders.

I did a lot of bad stuff to those people as well. I guess we were worth one another. However, they did not dare to kill anyone.

My story is quite amusing, isn’t it? Some people will find it interesting, some people will find it disgusting. I agree with the latter. I was a disgusting person and I still am. However, I want to give myself a second chance. I usually do not believe that people can change but I’m not ready to give up on my life. I’m still young and have a life ahead of me. It worth a shot. I feel good right now, so I just want you to know that everyone deserves a second chance. Or at least I want to believe so. Now, let me show you the worst character of this story. My name is Florence Walker. I am currently twenty one years old and I am sitting in prison. The only thing that I will say in my defence and it's an extremely small one is that I came clean willingly. I always wanted to be a great person. However, rage lives in my blood and I was not able to control it. In retrospect, I realize that totally all my actions were wrong. Each one. I’m not a God to decide people’s destiny. I cannot decide when a person’s life ends. It is not how things work. I think my willingness is the only good thing about me.

I came clean with four murders. However, it was evaluated as my own defence. Therefore, they gave most a life sentence but a 15-year-old term. It’s pretty great, isn’t it? Considering how I killed them, why I killed them and that it wasn’t particularly self defense, I got a damn good term. Could’ve been longer.

I started writing this book two months after getting here. Considering the childish level of language, plot, etc, it took me only three months. However, I want to grow, so it’s not my last book. I want to be a writer. Here I’m going to study basics, and then want to get into a college writing program. I will have a good life ahead of me if I do not mess up things here. I’m trying to change some aspects of my character.

I actually for a long time didn’t think that I would survive in the real world as an adult because I always tell what I think and I am kind of extreme in my views. I told my mother plenty of times that it is not right to beat your kids, that it is not okay to force children to take sides. My character always wanted to be the right version and the perfect version of a person. I never wanted to lie. I never wanted to be a fraud. Funny, considering four murders.

I had a quite disgusting life and that’s the reason why I’m the way I am. I do not think I would be a particularly bad person if I was a daughter of Jenifer Eniston.

I was constantly abused by each member of my family in any possible way. My father, mother, sister, two brothers, they used to mock me every single day. They would beat me if I didn't get them enough money. I dropped out of school in order to make more money. I worked since twelve because my parents brought nothing home and I wanted to eat something. I never slept more than seven hours. I had to go to the gym in order to be strong. Four times per week I exercised. That’s the reason why I wasn’t scared of everyone in the family, excluding Ilon. I even had to work as a stripper to make a hella lotta money. And I was able to do that, however, two times of harassment taught me that it was not worth the money, so I quit. I even once had a sweet boyfriend who turned out to be a total wackadoodle and abuser. He constantly beat hell out of me and cheated on me. I was eighteen and stupid back then. Bob, by the way, helped me out of this situation. It was unbearable. Every time I went to bed I wished I hadn’t woken up. I accumulated so many traumas and childhood issues that I can lend you a couple if you want. I guess if I was examined by a psychologist or psychiatrist, I would be diagnosed with all kinds of disorders.

I did a lot of bad stuff to those people as well. I guess we were worth one another. However, they did not dare to kill anyone.

My story is quite amusing, isn’t it? Some people will find it interesting, some people will find it disgusting. I agree with the latter. I was a disgusting person and I still am. However, I want to give myself a second chance. I usually do not believe that people can change but I’m not ready to give up on my life. I’m still young and have a life ahead of me. It worth a shot. I feel good right now, so I just want you to know that everyone deserves a second chance. Or at least I want to believe so. Now, let me show you the worst character of this story. My name is Florence Walker. I am currently twenty one years old and I am sitting in prison. The only thing that I will say in my defence and it's an extremely small one is that I came clean willingly. I always wanted to be a great person. However, rage lives in my blood and I was not able to control it. In retrospect, I realize that totally all my actions were wrong. Each one. I’m not a God to decide people’s destiny. I cannot decide when a person’s life ends. It is not how things work. I think my willingness is the only good thing about me.

I came clean with four murders. However, it was evaluated as my own defence. Therefore, they gave most a life sentence but a 15-year-old term. It’s pretty great, isn’t it? Considering how I killed them, why I killed them and that it wasn’t particularly self defense, I got a damn good term. Could’ve been longer.

I started writing this book two months after getting here. Considering the childish level of language, plot, etc, it took me only three months. However, I want to grow, so it’s not my last book. I want to be a writer. Here I’m going to study basics, and then want to get into a college writing program. I will have a good life ahead of me if I do not mess up things here. I’m trying to change some aspects of my character.

I actually for a long time didn’t think that I would survive in the real world as an adult because I always tell what I think and I am kind of extreme in my views. I told my mother plenty of times that it is not right to beat your kids, that it is not okay to force children to take sides. My character always wanted to be the right version and the perfect version of a person. I never wanted to lie. I never wanted to be a fraud. Funny, considering four murders.

I had a quite disgusting life and that’s the reason why I’m the way I am. I do not think I would be a particularly bad person if I was a daughter of Jenifer Eniston.

I was constantly abused by each member of my family in any possible way. My father, mother, sister, two brothers, they used to mock me every single day. They would beat me if I didn't get them enough money. I dropped out of school in order to make more money. I worked since twelve because my parents brought nothing home and I wanted to eat something. I never slept more than seven hours. I had to go to the gym in order to be strong. Four times per week I exercised. That’s the reason why I wasn’t scared of everyone in the family, excluding Ilon. I even had to work as a stripper to make a hella lotta money. And I was able to do that, however, two times of harassment taught me that it was not worth the money, so I quit. I even once had a sweet boyfriend who turned out to be a total wackadoodle and abuser. He constantly beat hell out of me and cheated on me. I was eighteen and stupid back then. Bob, by the way, helped me out of this situation. It was unbearable. Every time I went to bed I wished I hadn’t woken up. I accumulated so many traumas and childhood issues that I can lend you a couple if you want. I guess if I was examined by a psychologist or psychiatrist, I would be diagnosed with all kinds of disorders.

I did a lot of bad stuff to those people as well. I guess we were worth one another. However, they did not dare to kill anyone.

My story is quite amusing, isn’t it? Some people will find it interesting, some people will find it disgusting. I agree with the latter. I was a disgusting person and I still am. However, I want to give myself a second chance. I usually do not believe that people can change but I’m not ready to give up on my life. I’m still young and have a life ahead of me. It worth a shot. I feel good right now, so I just want you to know that everyone deserves a second chance. Or at least I want to believe so.