The first time…


The hook on the back of my door looked perfect. a blue bandanna that my Daddy had given me. Looped and tied together I slipped it over the hook. The chair from my desk, and everyone was outside that afternoon. My 2nd to the oldest step-sister was sleeping down the hall, and my brothers were outside playing. She had left for the store, so no one was bound to find me any time soon. 
I felt exhausted, and alone all the time. The names at school, the kicks on the bus, the mistreatment at home. My Mother abandoning us. No one cared for me, no one loved me, no one wanted me.  My Father called me a liar. She said I made her sick. Death was a way out from them and myself.
I was 7 or 8 years old. It wouldn’t be the last time I wanted to end the sadness I felt.
Standing on the chair, slipping the bandanna over my pale blonde hair. I was crying, and scared. Hoping this would end  the horrible feelings inside. Pushing the chair forward, it stopped against the quilt covered bed. It was enough to dangle from the hook on the back of my bedroom door. I kicked against the door, panic set in, gasping for air and . Clawing at the bandanna, attempting to undo what I began.
The chair…
I reached it with the tip of my toes, the knot in the bandanna gave way. My skinny legs and gangly arms crashed, a crumpled heap onto the floor. 
Sobbing I crawled under my bed. Ashamed of what I almost did. Fearful they would find out. I laid there weeping until long after the sunset and She came home. There was Pizza Hutand Kool-aid that night, a treat.
I wasn’t hungry. 
Sneaking, downstairs into the bathroom I checked my neck in the mirror, it was a bit red, a few purple streaks, no one would notice.
No one ever did.
I crawled into bed, grubby feet and cut off shorts, in my favorite red t-shirt that said “Pennies from Heaven.” The nightmares didn’t come that night, for the first time. It’s as if something in my mind let me rest from the fears of the shadows on the wall, and the shadows in the hall. The fears were quiet that night.

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