I never thought I’d get this far.

The year is 2004
I’m 6. And I thought the monsters in my closet were going to get me.
They didn’t.

Fast forward to 2008
I’m now 10. I thought the kids in my class would hurt me. They did.
But I’m still here.

2013
15 now. No one cares, I hurt myself. A boy in my class hurt himself worse. He’s gone. I’m still here.

2014
16 and can drive. I hurt myself bad. I went to the hospital. Still here.

2016
An adult now, 18. High school is done. I met him.. he hurt me. Still here I guess.

2017
19 now. He left. Thought I’d be gone but no. Still here.

2018
20 and things are okay. I’m still here but where am I? Lost but here.

2019
Going to be 21. Figuring things out. Lost. Why am I here? Why did I make it? Sometimes I wonder, should I have?

I never thought I’d get this far. So many times I thought it was the end of my story. Sometimes I wish it had ended. This doesn’t feel right. The story needs to end.