This story is not a self help book, not a happy story and definitely not a self love book. These are going to be documents of if I cut, where I cut, why I cut and if I didn't cut. You don't have to read this and you don't have to put some sappy stuf...
As usual my brother came into my room and tried to steal my stuff and hit me and pushed me around but not as usual my mom actually told him to come down stairs. I thought wow mom is helping me and then she put a fourteen year old boy who like to be way to rough with people and never does his classes 2 minutes sitting down and then he went right back to messing with me. He tried to stomp my music box that I got for my birthday and cut a hole in my plushy that I hug when I get depressed.
He is abusive and rude and my mom just let's him get away with it. He hits me so hard I have bruises for days and his mental abuse is even worse. He calls me bitch, fag, fat frick, dirt neck, ugly, ugly fat bum. He also never lets me talk. Whenever I go to talk he says over and over things like, "No one cares bum", "Shut up fatty", and "Your fat". This is all while my mom sits and watches.
She also yelled at me for causing the fight with my brother even though he came in my room and started the whole argument. I can't live in this house anymore. I feel like my spirit is dying from living here. In other new I am going to be babysitting this weekend at my grandmothers house and I am starting a new book called bloody hell.
Here is a picture of the stuffed animal.
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The music box that he was gonna stomp is next to it.
