Stuck

September 22, 1995

In my room

I sit and wait

To be seen

To be heard

To be noticed

In this family

This sick, rotten family

Of mine

How will I live

If I can’t even have a home

September 23, 1995

Today I went

To run.

Far away.

From here.

From my problems.

From this complete nightmare

Of a “home”

But

They caught me

They always catch me

I’m not fast enough

September 24, 1995

I think I will do it

Leave this world

This sick, rotten world

I will do it on the bridge

The water looks tempting, almost calming

The water looks like home

The water feels like home

More of a home than mine

All of their money

But no love

Nothing is here for me

September 25, 1995

Saturday is my birthday

My fourteenth birthday

I don’t want it to be

I never do anything

They never do anything

Especially for me 

I think I’ll do it then

On the bridge

By the river

Of which I share a name

It will be memorable

They will never forget

What they have done to me

At least I hope

Maybe they’ll just shrug it off

Like they always do

To me

And my stupid,

Worthless,

Meaningless,

Life

September 26, 1995

I went to school

School is almost better

Than my home

If I can even call it that

All of the kids

Call me rich.

Call me spoiled.

Call me worthless.

They say

I will never need anything

Besides “Daddy’s money”

But they don’t know

The truth.

About me.

And my life.

How my family doesn’t care

If I live or die.

If I eat.

They only care

That I do everything

For them

Because they cannot

Help themselves

Or me

September 27, 1995

I think

They might’ve started

To notice

Me

Who I am

As a person

My mother asked

What I wanted

For my birthday

But,

She said I could only get

One thing

One cheap, worthless thing

And go out

For dinner

So, I said,

A notebook and a pen

To write my note

My note

Something that finally belongs to me

To my family

My horrible, worthless family

I also asked

To go to Olive Garden

Yes,

That will be it

A nice last meal

They’ve never asked me this before

What I wanted 

Especially not for my birthday

September 28, 1995

For the first time,

Someone said hello

Someone was nice to me

Me,

With my worthless,

Useless,

Meaningless life

To be fair,

It was only the mailman

The stupid mailman

Mom says he is wrong

She says

“Never talk to him

To that filthy, horrible, man”

But

She is wrong

The mailman is the sweetest,

Kindest,

Most wonderful man

On this crummy planet

September 29, 1995

Tomorrow

I leave

I leave this world

This horrible, cruel world

I leave this family

This horrible, cruel family

My note

It will say

“I’m gone

Don’t try and stop me

It’s too late

My horrible

Cruel family

You never noticed me

And I doubt you even will now”

I will leave it

Right by the bridge

Maybe they will find it

At this point,

It doesn’t matter

September 30, 1995

Today

I am fourteen years old

Today

I do it

I cannot wait

I am counting down

The hours

Minutes

Seconds

I am doing it

At eight-thirty

I will go outside

Run

Run for my life

Or rather to end it

Get to the bridge

Set down my note

Take my final breath

And jump

To the river

It will be like a soft pillow

Helping me go to sleep

Except

I won’t wake up.

October 13, 1995

I woke up

In the hospital

Arms aching

Body on a bed

Hooked up to machines

That I have no clue what they do

No family in sight

Doctors said that they don’t care

Mom said I’m fine

Just dramatic

Dad says I need to be happy

Think about the good things

What good things?

Except

There is someone else in my room

My hospital room

Someone I recognize

It’s the mailman

That my mother hates so much

He walks over

Hugs me

He says,

“You’re safe with me

Please don’t die again”

And for the first time,

In my life,

I feel at home

January 1, 1996

My new years resolution

Was to stop

Stop thinking about the bad

Only focus on the good

So far, I’m doing well

Social workers took me from my old home

My old parents

They say that they abused me

Mentally and verbally

I agree

I was taken in by the mailman

Who has a name of Bill

And his boyfriend, Michael

I think that I am much happier

Now that I have a place

A home 

A real home

With people I love

And people that love me

And I will stay with these people

For ever

And ever

Until the day I die,

But this time it won’t be me ending it.