I should start off by saying; this book is not about my whole life. This book is not a way for people to look at me have them feel sorry for me. This book is about something’s that have happened to me, which have happened to other people, but in whole different way. You see I look at things in way where if you say, those book genres are exactly the same. I would tell you that you are wrong. They are not the same at all. They just have bits and pieces to where they might seem like the stories are the same, but then more stuff happens and that’s how the story becomes its own. If you don’t really understand what I’m saying then no need to worry. Just read on.

            It is the month of February. I don’t know the day of the week. I don’t know the day of the month. I don’t even know what time it is. None of that even matters at this point. She doesn’t even want me. I’m sitting here on this bead just thinking about what She said.

            “I wish I had an abortion when I was pregnant with you!” Slam! That on sentence keeps ringing through my mind. I’m trying to figure out what She meant by it. Then it hits me like a sniper waiting for their shot to come into clear view. She wished I was dead, not only that, but She wished that She, herself, had killed me.

            I started crying. If She didn’t even want me, then why would anyone else want me? I would M want me when she gets older? I would Dad want me? Why would anyone want me, period? I’m breathing really hard. I can’t figure out if this is an Asthma attack or not. I start shaking and the thoughts me breathing fine or not leave my mind.

            I start doing things to myself that are just normal. I hit myself with solid things from the dresser. I run into the corners of things on purpose. I go to the closet with some of my shoes that She bought for me just weeks ago. I hit myself with them.

            Either She can’t hear me, or she doesn’t care at all. I’m guessing that she doesn’t care. That’s why She said what She said, right? I get my phone. I start texting A. One of my close friends. She gives me a number to text. For people who are depressed. The person didn’t help at all. I decided to just stop texting all together.

            It has been a couple hours and I’m starting to freak out. The thoughts going through my head have gotten worst. There not going away. I want…I want...

            “She doesn’t want you.”

            “Just do it already”

            “Nobody wants you”

            “The knife and keys are right there”

            “Just a few cuts, what are you waiting for?”

            If She didn’t want me, then how could anybody else want me? I grab the keys and knife. I’m scared though. I want to die. But I’m scared. I haven’t done the things I thought I could do. I haven’t been to high school yet. I haven’t gone to college yet or gotten married or had kids or grandkids. I get my phone and start crying. I dial her number. There is a beep.

            “Doctor? Uh…I’m scared…It’s…It’s an emergency…Please…Please call back as soon as you can…bye…”

            I called her in between tears. 30min. must have passed by until I got her call back. She knew I was scared. She knew what was going on. Something told me she has been through this already with another patient. She got Dad on the phone. He has never been at a loss for words. I never heard him cry before either. I think Dad was on the verge of bawling out like me.

            I was half listening. I couldn’t hear him over my crying. No matter what he said, I couldn’t calm down. All I remember saying was that, “I’m scared…I’m scared”