Drabble About My (Painful) Life

I was raised to feel inferior. I was raised to obey, and be scared of the consequences.
I was raised not to smile. I was raised not to laugh.
I was raised to stay quiet. I was raised to be unhappy.
I was raised not to cry, not to feel any pain.
I was raised to not have a soul. I was raised to be perfect.

And I'm sick of it all.

My mother thinks that she's better than everyone, and she has all her dolt rules and pet peeves. If she makes a mistake, she leaves me to clean it up. Her and my father are very sexist, saying that since I'm the girl (the only girl out of four), I have to do all the chores, which was the only reason I was born.

I can't leave the house, and I can't have friends over. I can't go to my friends houses, and I can't be loud. They're always on the side thats not mine. Sometimes my brothers would drive me so insane that I think about killing myself. I tell them to leave me alone, but they are very persistent. And my mother is always: Is it going to kill you Audray?

Really? You can't even say my NAME right? Oh I see how it is.

And you abuse me. The one time I got sent to the principal's office, you brought me in to a bathroom and slammed things against my head, and you pinched me and pulled my hair. My dad even kicked my leg so hard I limped for the next three days. And when I cried, you told me to shut up or you'd punish me more. You tell me not to tell anyone because I'd get you in trouble.

And at school nobody likes me, and I'm a complete social reject, and don't object to that Not Terra or Angela. Because thats how I feel. Everyone makes fun of me and the popular girls get mad at me for no reason and they turn everybody against me and they make me cry. But I never get sympathy from them; they fake cry and tell everyone that I'm fake crying too.

And then I go home and I just wanna sit in my room and cry my eyes out, but no, I get chore after chore laid upon my schedule and I'm worked to the bone. And I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE.

But every time I even try the littlest bit to defend myself, you yell, "Are you talking back? Grounded. For a month. I'm taking all your privelleges. You're not EVER getting a phone. NEVER. Clean the bathrooms (we have three big ones), wash the dishes for a week, and clean the entire upstairs."

You never hear me out. Never. And when I try to run away from your cruel punishments, you chase after me, hurt me even more, and then hurt me even MORE for making them run.

And no one can help. No one. Because they'd hurt me if I told on them.

Sometimes I wish that I wasn't born, because I'm pretty sure that no one would suffer from me not being here. And if I died, no one would probably remember me. And probably everytime someone mentioned my name, people would say: "Who?"

So yeah, thats the end of my rant. Bye :\