The End is Easier

10/4/13
Dear,
Journal thingy.
I stayed home today with the flue.
I would have honestly rather gone to school than have to be vomiting every five minutes.
I just sat on the couch for the day with a bucket in my lap, throwing up. And if I wasn't losing my whole fucking stomach contents, I was dry heaving into my new companion. The Bucket.
And not being able to take my medication sucked. I guess I'm like super reliant on it because I felt all weird and out of my skin. Maybe it was just because I was sick, but whichever it sucked.
I had to cancel my appointment with Mr. Way today. I found myself actually disappointed that I couldn't go.
There's just something about him.
He's all weird and mysterious-like.
And did I mention he's fucking gorgeous!
His eyes are so hypnotic. Their this lovely
Honey color with little flecks of green.
And when he looks at you the green flecks seem to dance in his eyes.
Did I mention his amazing ass? Seriously its like perfect.
Jesus, listen to me carry on like a love sick teenager.
Seriously help me journal thingy!
He's at least twenty three, and I'm seventeen!
He's probably got some smoking hot girlfriend anyway. She's probably got long blonde hair, and wears really tight clothes to show off her big tits, and their all in love and shit.
And I bet he just thinks she fucking eye sex!
I'm jealous of some chick I just made up in my head. Wow, way to reach your new all time low Frank.
I have to go, my mom just got home.
Bye journal. Until tomorrow.
XO Frank.

I closed my journal and walked down stairs to great my mother.
She looked tired and sad.
I wrapped her in a hug before I said anything.
She gave me a long squeeze and let go.
She grabbed me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes.
"Frankie, we have to talk about you're father."
I could see her start to tear up.
I nodded my head and we walked into the living room.
we sat on the couch together. She took my hand and put it into her own.
"The court date has been set for October fifteenth."
I didn't speak. I just sat there like a dear caught in headlights.
It was already October fourth.
"Frankie, he has a good lawyer. And he could possibly win. It kills me to know that you could be taken from me. He would only get every other weekend. But that is still to much. He doesn't deserve to be out of prison. Let alone the privilege to see you."
I don't answer.
I clam up and just sit there staring
at my lap,
racking my brain of what to say.
I can't seem to find the answer among the sea of other thoughts.
I still don't understand why he's even out of jail.
For almost four years of my life, he 'hurt' me.
Everyday after school. Every night when my mother was at work.
It was our little secret. I was so young. He took away so much of my childhood.
My life had been forever ruined by that monster. And they were just going to let him into the real world.
I can here the clock on the wall tick with every second that passes by.
The ticks get louder with every second.
Soon all I can hear is this never ending ticking noise. I try and just focus on something else but its no use. I look at my mother, she has a worried look etched on her face.
The ticking becomes almost unbearable.
I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut.
"Frank?"
I can hear my mother barley over the tick sound.
"Frankie?"
More urgency is in her voice this time.
I still don't respond.
She grabs my shoulders. And the ticking completely stops.
I open my eyes and stare at my mother.
She staring at me as if I were a ghost.
The ticking of the clock is the normal faint 'tick' every second.
I move my hands to my side.
"I'm gonna go lay down."
I get up off the couch and shuffle across the living room carpet.
My mother still doesn't say anything.
I walk up the stairs and down the hall to my bedroom.
I slam the door shut behind me, causing Sweet Pea to let out a loud bark.
I go over to where she's laying, on the floor next to my bed, and sit crisscross in front to her.
I pet her soft fur and scratch behind her ears.
She gets up and sits herself in my lap.
Soon she calms down and falls asleep.
I can't stop thinking about my father.
He's a fucking monster.
There just going to let him go? After all he did to me!?
He put me threw hell! That doesn't seem to matter to them at all.
He fucking raped me! It wasn't once! It was threw out my childhood!
I felt like I was going to throw up.
I shot up off the floor and ran to the bathroom across the hall.
I barely made it before I vomited my guts out.
I heard my mom knock on the door, but I ignored her.
Finally, my whole stomach contents had been emptied.
I got off my knees and flushed the toilet.
I washed my mouth off with a bit of water and spit it into the sink.
I ran back to my room and laid down on my bed.
I began to feel tears invade the corners of my eyes.
I wiped them away on the back of my hand.
I sat up and reached over to my side table.
I pulled out the drawer and found what I was looking for. A razor.
It looked as if I had only used it once or twice.
Only a small smudge of dry blood was across it.
I hadn't cut in such along time. Probably three weeks.
I stopped awhile after my sessions with
Mr. Way started.
I rolled up my sleeve, and saw that I had no scabs or healing wounds. They had all scarred. I lifted up my shirt.
The gash on my side had also started to heal.
It was going to leave a hug scar.
I pulled down my shirt and rolled up my sleeves.
I hovered the razor over my scarred up wrist.
Tears began to invade my vision, again, and make it blurry.
I wiped the tears with the back of my hand.
I brought the razor down, it sliced threw my pale skin with ease.
Blood began to leak from the slice.
Bright crimson dripped down onto my pillow.
I picked up the razor and made another large cut below the first.
The second bleed even more.
I didn't care. I kept going.
My life didn't matter anymore. I stopped counting after thirteen.
My whole left arm was covered in blood.
I began to feel faint.
I looked down and saw lots of red droplets on my pillow. I looked at my arm and tried wiping the blood away. But that just smeared everywhere. My vision was fuzzy and white.
I got on my feet and tried walking to the bathroom.
My knees wobbled and threatened to give at any step.
I made it to the bathroom and vomited.
My knees gave out and I fell on the tile floor.

Notes

Wow, so sorry for not being able to update sooner! I feel bad because you guys are so patient and leave nice comments (I'm weird)
I swear I'll update ASAP!
I hope everyone had a nice Christmas! (I'm a little late.) But whatever. I hope you guys had a rad New Years!
Bye my beautiful rubber duckies!