I know it seems like I’m copying people, but I need to get this off my chest. When I was born, it was before my parents’ wedding. So my parents got married and everything was perfectly fine… Then my sister was born. When my sister was born, she stopped breathing and her heart stopped for 3 minutes straight. Then it started up again out of nowhere. So my parents were really stressed out because she is asthmatic and she plays sports and gets out of breath easily and always needs her inhaler. When I was four years old, my dad, knowing I was allergic to nuts, forced me to eat a honey roasted almond. I immediately started throwing up and soon went into a coma. I was in the hospital for 3 weeks. Then my dad said it was my fault because I asked for it when I didn’t. When I was 7 and my sister was 6, my dad got mad at me and my sister and locked us in the basement for 2 days with no food or heat. A week after that, he threw me down the stairs and started punching and kicking me while my mom (disabled in a wheelchair) and sister watched. When I was 9 and my sister was 8, my parents slowly started to separate. Since my mom was in a wheelchair and couldn’t move very much, she had to stay in the house a lot and couldn’t move out because she couldn’t carry her bags without help. My dad didn’t like the thought of her trying to leave, so he said if she tried to leave, he would kill either me, my sister or both of us. Knowing he would do it, she decided to stay and risk her life. Everything seemed to smooth out over the next few years. I thought it was over and that is was just him being new to parenting. Well just last year, my mom died of a heart attack because my dad started beating her. Then my dad said it was me and my sisters fault because, “if we wouldn’t have been born, he wouldn’t have had to beat us for being dumb little fuckers.” My sister broke down and cried and I grabbed her and we walked outside of my house, my dad cursing us as we walked out the door. I told her that no matter what happened, she had to stay strong like our mom would have wanted. When we got back inside, the kitchen table was in splinters on the floor and my dad was holding the hammer that he had committed the crime. We ran up to my room and his in there for hours. That day was when I started self harm. Since it was during the summer, I couldn’t slit my wrist, so I cut my stomach where it wouldn’t be seen. That was last summer when my mom died. I still do self harm but I’m trying to stop but it’s so hard. I’ve had three suicide attempts. The first time, I tried to hang myself at the park near my house but it didnt work. The second time, I tried to overdose on medication, but put myself in a coma instead. The third time, I cut my neck, but didnt bleed enough to die. Then I realized that I had to stay here for my sister, because I refuse to let her live with this monster without someone to protect her. I’m still sad about my moms death and I refuse to believe that it was my fault. But im starting to believe that I was a factor in it occurring. And about 20 minutes ago, my dad said I was “the ugliest looking piece of shit on this planet” and spit on my face. And I believe him, because I’m not pretty. Never have been, never will be. But that’s just that way it is. My sister looks like my mom so she is really pretty but I look like I fell out the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down, so I get talked about in school all the time. I’ve lost hope and given up on life. My sister is the only real reason I’m still here. Idc what it takes, maybe even my own life, but I will keep her safe, even if its the last thing I do.