“Hey Ma, Pa, and anyone else that reads this.
I know this may seem tragic… but trust me, it isn’t. This is actually for the better.
I don’t mean to blame anybody or anything… but its the world’s fault.
Everyone and everything did this to me.
And I never understood why.
Was it because I had been born?
Why did everyone hate me so much?
I asked so many people why…
Of course, I get no answer since I am completely invisible to everyone.
You may have seen my pictures on my arms and legs. They were so hard to hide from everyone. There were so many.
Now, I am happy Ma came back home that night. Pa’s abuse and games had became too much for me to handle.
Ma, when Pa took me, I wasn’t hit as often, but twice as hard.
Even now, still, your love is visible on my skin.
I lied to the teachers, saying it’s nothing, that I had just fallen down.
They didn’t even believe me because one day I came in to class, swollen and purple from your love that I was unable to wear a proper dress for graduation. I was stuck in my jeans and my heavy torn up black jacket that I have had for years now.
Why didn’t you guys actually love me?
Was it because I was born?
Was I really just a mistake?
You never even cared.
Now, all my loyal, true, caring friends, you should all die in a hole. How could you call me names, share those rumors? How could you have did this to me?
You called me pretty once.
You said was skinny.
Perfect.
Then you told everyone I am a mistake. Oh, how fun!
I have wanted you all to see what this mistake would actually do to herself.
Now how do you feel? Regretful? Sorry? Or do you feel good. Powerful. Manipulative, even.
To all the guys that wanted to use me.
Burn in hell.
I hope you rot and suffer eternally.
To even think I would allow that to become of me?!
What is wrong with you?
What in your mind gives you the right to touch me when I respectively declined your request?
Everyone hated m ad I was still young. I was only 15.
I had a life ahead of me.
But no, no anymore.
Why, oh, why should a mistake like me even have the chance of living?
Whatever.
I sure hope you are all happy with this mistake finally dead and gone.
This pest won’t be bugging you anymore.”
My husband looked over at me. He didn’t seem mad, or upset in any way. He seemed settled. As if he got his way.
I wanted so badly to ask him why seemed so satisfied with the death of our daughter, but didn’t. He wouldn’t have told me anyhow.
My husband didn’t even bother to embrace me, even after losing our only child to ourselves and this cruel world.
I never thought I had left marks on my daughter, nevertheless, knew about my husband and his game with my daughter.
I sat in her room, nit once coming out to eat or anything. Nothing in her room seemed off. She never seemed so depressed to do this. The rope still clung to the ceiling fan, for I told my husband to take her innocent corpse down. I couldn’t handle this anymore, it was all too much.
I watched as he dumped her body into the den of our house. He said to let her corpse rot there, and nobody would know. I didn’t tell her school, I just took her out of all of her classes. I was guilt filled, tear-choked, as well.
Little did I know my husband would begin playing this game with me.
