When I was 12 I had this fiend who wouldnt tell me his name so, I just called him Mister. I really looked up to him but, the truth was he hated my guts. One day he took something from me that I will never be able to take back. After he did that to me I decided that I couldnt live any longer. I mean I felt so wrenched afterwards and it had scared me. On september 27th I attempted suicide but my grandmother found me before I was dead. Deep down im happy I didnt commit suicide, because now I have a reason to keep on living.
I had a debate with myself if I should have post this, because this note is something very important to me.