I wanted to escape, but I didn't want to feel like that anymore. I was underwater, I couldn't breathe, but it was okay it would have been over soon.
Just a little more, just a little longer, then the pain would've been gone, and I would have too.
My lungs were heaving, trying to find oxygen where there was none, burning as they filled with water.
I distantly heard a knock on the bathroom door, but at that time I chose to ignore it, because I really meant to die that time, and refused to let them interrupt me again.
The pounding on the door continued, or maybe it was just my ears pounding to the beat of my heart.
Just then, my dad breezed through the door, and approached the bath tub.
He must have used a penny to unlock the bathroom door again, I should've known they wouldn't let me go. He yanked me out of the water, and thus began pounding away at my back.
I started expelling water, then coughed it back up again.
I guess I failed again, I was still here in this wretched world, unfortunately.
My head was pounding from being underwater without oxygen, and I could hear my mum yelling at me about something.
I couldn't hear her, because my ears were pounding, and slightly blocked with water too.
The thing is I didn't want to die, but I was sick of people hurting me, just because they could.
I hated that my parents thought they're not part of whatever was making me suicidal or depressed, and kept preventing me from ending it all in my own way, from stopping my suffrage.
My hearing slowly returned bit by bit, which is good and bad news for myself.
I was in my bedroom crying yet again, although that's nothing new, it seemed to be a daily occurrence for me.
My parents didn't really care about me or my feelings though, they just didn't want my death on their conscience, that is....if they even had one to begin with.
Both my mum and dad, forgot about me a lot; said hurtful things to me, and have been known to hit me in the past.
My mum used her hands or a slipper to spank me; clipped me around the head, or ear, and she'd slapped me on the face before, or on my hand.
My dad has strangled me, kicked me, punched me; clipped me around the ear, or back of the head.
He has also used a belt on me before, slapped, or spanked me, and he'd also shoved me into a wall, a door frame, or down the stairs before.
I remember when I was 10 years old, I went missing, although technically....I suppose you could say I was kidnapped.
My parents noticed I was gone, but they never contacted the police, or went looking for me.
My mum assumed I was staying at a friend's house, but never even checked to make sure I was, and my dad went along with it all.
I got lucky and escaped my kidnapper that day.
He unfortunately found me, and strangely enough he brought me back to where he kidnapped me from.
The man proceeded to dump me out of his car, laughed at me, and then drove off.
I tried walking the rest of the way home, but I was in excruciating pain.
So I contacted my best friend Katherine to come and get me, because I couldn't walk the rest of the way home.
She carried me on her back to my parents house, and I thanked her, before letting myself in through the front door.
Only my family didn't even seem to miss me, or realised anything was amiss as they celebrated my brother's birthday without me.
I was shocked as you can imagine, extremely devastated, and more than furious with them, I couldn't believe they could be so horrid.
I could smell the smoke of the birthday candles after my brother blew them out in the living room, none the wiser to whatever was occurring.
I could see that my mum chose to make my brother a cake instead of a store bought one, and from the looks of it the cake was my favourite flavour, chocolate!
We ended up arguing for a while, however I was so enraged, I decided to pack up some of my clothes and other belongings, and went to my best friend Katherine's house and slept over.
I was there for nearly a month, before they forced me to go back to the house.
The atmosphere in that house was heavy, ominous; and very negative, like a black cloud of oppression.
I wanted to run from it, I hated that house, and it's all because my parents treated it like it wasn't home for me, always telling me I'm just a guest living there!
The fact it was filled with poltergeists also didn't help either.
I wished that was the only time my parents let me down, but they continued to prove that they were not capable of looking after children at all.
The traumas I went through started with my family, and progressively got worse when I entered primary school, leading to bullying, sexual abuse, kidnapped; and stalked home.
I was never a bad person really, I tried my best to be nice to others, not that it ever got me anywhere, if anything it made me an easy target of several forms of abuse.
You wouldn't know me, apparently I was easy to forget, practically invisible to lots of people, until I wasn't, and then people would verbally or physically hurt me.
I wished I was invisible all the time, so people would stop hurting me.
I tried ending my life a lot, even self harmed too, but nothing really helped, especially in high school when I started drinking as well.
It only numbed my pain for a little while; and smoking helped my anxiety. I smoked even more as my tolerance increased, I also did that with drinking too I think.
Bad things happened to me most days, I wondered if I had a kick me sign somewhere on me?
From a young age I played a make believe game with my best friend Katherine, she called it the Magic world, but in my dreams it was always called Magicia.
We went on adventures there as we struggled with our own realities, and it really helped me at least for a little while.
When I was at school I needed other vices to cope with my suffering, but at home Magicia was my only comfort, at least until I learned how to read.
However, Katherine decided she didn't want to play make believe anymore, when we entered high school she pulled away from it as she turned 13.
I still needed that escape though, and Katherine became less of a friend, and more like a manipulative bitch than anyone else in my life.
She wouldn't even let me end the friendship, even though I tried several times over, she used her manipulative ways to persuade me not to end our friendship, which really pissed me off!!
Without the magic world I had to find other ways to fantasise about other things.
Some of them were good, but most were bad as they reminded me of what I have been, or what I'm still going through.
I ended up reading more instead, had unsafe sex with strangers, drank more, and withdrew from my family emotionally as time went by.
Unfortunately there was nothing that was effective enough that helped me entirely.
When I was 13 years old my parents and my high school had me see an educational psychologist, all they did was have me draw and paint, it did nothing for my mental health really....
I nearly fell whilst I ran from yet another evil person, while I recollected on all my past traumas.
A man started stalking me, I couldn't go back home, because my parents kicked me out onto the streets again. It was the middle of the night too.
I yelled for help, but nobody heard me, or they just didn't care. I circled back around to Park Fields, and decided to go towards Padgate Lane, so I could cut through a side street there.
I needed to get as close to my neighbourhood as I could in the hopes that one of them would help me.
It probably wasn't a smart idea to head for Park Fields, but I struggled to breathe, and was panicking as well.
I came across the side street, and realised that I wasn't too far from the park now, this gives me a sudden burst of adrenaline.
I was getting closer to my destination, so I decided to listen to my instincts, and head for the fairy circle.
Until he grabbed me, then I had no other choice but to knee him in the groin, and choose a different path.
He lets out a grunt and curses under his breath, while I make a smooth getaway.
I needed to head towards the stepping stones instead now, so that's what I do.
As soon as I got there and stepped on the first stone, everything started to shimmer.
I suddenly began to slowly disappear, but it's okay because being invisible will hurt less won't it?