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My Story

That little girl lay her head down tonight to go to sleep She was tied down to her bed, instructed not to make a peep Still sore from her beating earlier that day She silently cried and wished there would be a way Someone would find out, get her out of this mess If given the chance, she would've immediately said yes Nobody would've suspected there were problems at home Yet nobody noticed she always was alone. She heard the stairs creak, she knew what was next Why they even did it made her completely perplexed Laying there sweating in the stifling heat She knew it was time yet again to be beat The windows were closed, nobody would hear The result from her mom after having some beer She tried not to yell, but the pain was too great Why was she the victim of so much hate? By the age of six, she was already dead inside Having only her stuffed horse in which to confide. She didn't know, she would never tell She just hoped someone would hear her yell Her teacher always used to ask if she was ok. She lied and said yes so the teacher would say "That's nice, now why don't you run and play" The beatings gradually got worse and worse. She felt as if she were under a curse She still believed in God, and prayed for the end But even God had decided he wasn't her friend. Sad and confused, she survived through it all Even that time she was slammed against a wall Was she a bad child? Did she get what she deserved? Nobody knew, saw or heard To them she was a useless turd Smacked on the face, Wooden spoon to the butt It just got worse if her mouth wasn't shut Yelled at, cursed at, bruised beyond belief Nobody felt even an ounce of grief Her school uniform hid most of it The rest was because she "tripped" Nobody noticed, nobody saw Who would've guessed that wasn't from cat claws She learned to become good at faking All the while, her body was shaking It became weak and scarred As she let down her guard She gave in to them and in return She received some pretty bad burns Not a soul was informed While she silently mourned Only 1 person knows, but her lips are sealed tight They both hold it in with all their might Cutting and starving sinking into depression She no longer shows much aggression. She's lost the battle, she'll never win All because they started on what seemed like a whim No proof is left, just a ruined girl Eventually she'll crack and give it a whirl Maybe the judges will stay on her side Then she'll have nothing left to hide My name is Emily, that girl is me All this pain started when I was three Every day I put on a mask and what do you know Nobody could ever tell I'm putting on a show. I'm thirteen now, and still in pain Every day it feels like I'm being run over by a train. It's too late for me but not for you Every bit of this story is true Please get help now, don't end up like me Trust me; this is the worst place to be In the us 1-800-394-3366 should be the number And if you suspect something is up Don't just sit there and wonder. Go up to them and ask them what's up. Every night I cry myself to sleep Wondering why I didn't make a peep. I'm suicidal, my time is almost up Pretty soon this pain will stop abrupt I know is not the answer, I know it's wrong But listen to my desperate song My name is Emily, and when I was three My "mommy" started to abuse me
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Written by
emily-ferguson
American
Published
Jun 17, 2011
Lines·Words
80·650
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