Make Me Wanna Die

• Rain. My favorite of earth's many elements. Not only does it calm the surroundings but it seems to calm me too. Everything about it, from the sound to the smell; it's completely relaxing. For as long as I can remember I have loved rain, even as a child.

Pain, hurt, heartbreak, misfortune, loneliness, anger. All these words can be used in the definition of my life. They say with these comes the one emotion that can cure them all. Love. But that is complete and utter bull shit, not once have I ever experienced the supposedly wonderful emotion. Most people claim to have found this rare jewel, I don’t believe them. As a matter of fact I don’t believe in love at all. It is just one of many myths in life. Its wonderful description passed from generation to generation. Well I’m here to say screw love and its tendency to break hearts, cause pain and ruin lives.

And while we are on the subject of beliefs, I don’t believe in god either. If there was such a person (which there is not) why would he let all the bad things happen? People say it is the counterpart for all the happiness we are given. Bull. Crap. What happiness? It’s more of an illusion we use to hide from the bitterness of our everyday lives. I'd much rather just deal with the pain head on than have rare moments of happiness that are only going to be taken away to leave me suffering once again.

"Dammit girl! What the hell is this fucking mess?! How many times do I have to tell you?! Now get your ass in here and clean it up!"
"Yes sir."
Ah the joys of living with an alcoholic, selfish, bipolar man. Slowly standing, I made my way out of my room, being careful to keep as much weight as possible off of my now swollen and aching ankle caused from one of my previous encounters with this man. I have yet to find out exactly what it is I did to deserve this life. The slave to a man who I don’t even know the name of. The only thing I am allowed to call him is sir, but when we have company I am forced to call him daddy, and he calls me sugar.

He is not and never will be my father. I don’t have a father. I don’t have anyone. My so called parents abandoned me; those assholes left me in a fucking alley at birth. That's where he found me. He took me in and 'took care of me' when no one else wanted me. And he has never let me forget that. Day after agonizing day I am reminded of my worthlessness. That I am wanted by no one.

My relationship with this man has many different sides. Not only am I his maid, I happen to be his sex slave when need be. The first night he came into my room, I was at the mere age of 14, and scared out of my mind. I cried all night, not able to get a bit of sleep. I have been forced to endure many sleepless nights, caused not only by him bit also his buddies who tend to sneak into my room after he has passed out.

Walking into the living room I see sir and two of his buddies, Ron and Al, watching football on TV and passing a joint between them. Beer bottles broken and scattered all throughout the room. I hold my breath for as long as possible, breathing through my mouth as needed in order to avoid the stench. I pay no attention to the whistles and cat calls thrown my way, as I scurry around the room gathering up the glass and trash. I can feel the minuscule shards of glass embedding themselves into my feet, knees, and palms as I crawl on the floor to get the hard to see pieces.

A swift kick to the stomach sends me sprawling across the floor and causing me to smack the back of my head on the corner of the coffee table that was relocated in order to make room for the beer cooler. I ignored the blood that began to trickle down my neck
If I acknowledge the pain the torture only gets worse.

"You worthless piece of shit. Can’t you do what you're told? No wonder nobody loves you. You can't do anything right."
"Yes sir I know."
"Was that a smartass comment I heard?!" sir's face was becoming awfully red, I could feel mine flush white
"No sir, of course not!" At this he dropped his beer onto the cooler, storming in my direction, hand raised and ready to swing.
I cowered back, but try as I might I was unable to disappear into myself. The kicking and hitting was barely registering in my brain, as I succumbed to the pain and numbness shooting throughout my body. I could hear the laughs of encouragement coming from Ron and Al.

"You stupid bitch, you deserve everything that coming to you." laughed Al, or was it Ron? My mind wouldn’t cooperate at the moment.

With one last swift kick to my back, sir spit on me and stormed back to his chair. "That'll teach you to back talk. Now get your ass out of here, I don't want to see your ugly face anymore. It's sickening."

My body continued to ache and my head continued to spin as i crawled out of the living room and into the kitchen. Blood was already starting to dry and cause my hair to stick to my face in a very uncomfortable way. Silent sobs wracked my body as i struggled for the strength the move, while gasping for breath during every movement I made. With my vision blurred and my body burning with pain it amazed me that I was able to find my way to the stairs.

Though making my way up was a whole other story. I cried out in pain with every step I traveled up.
"Keep it down in there you stupid bitch, and quit whining it was your own damn fault!" I chuckled bitterly at the man's words. "Yes Sir" I thought to myself while biting my lip. I thought it would split clear through with the force I was putting on it, as I silenced my cries and struggled up the last few stairs.

I somehow made it to my bedroom by crawling. Kicking the door shut with the slight tap of my foot, I drug myself into my bathroom before starting the shower. With the hottest water I could handle I stripped my clothes away and crawled in. The heat instantly relaxed my muscles. With this I started to sob uncontrollably. I grabbed a washcloth and started to scrub, wincing with every difficult movement until the blood was completely gone and my skin was bright red from the roughness and heat of the water.

I had spent about 45 minutes in the shower, just lying in there until my tears were all washed away with the blood. After toweling dry I limped my way to bed. I grabbed my iPod off the stand and put the headphones in my ears. After switching it on I was immediately soothed by the sounds of Paramore. It was still on my 'favorites' playlist. This consisted of Paramore, Three Days Grace, Theory of a Deadman, and Avenged Sevenfold.

These bands filled my head, repeating over and over until I finally drifted off into blackness...