People thinks its funny when other people get or already are hurt. But really it’s not. Particularly when you get hurt in the inside and the outside. When i was born to the age of 14 of the date of June 22, 2009, I was living with my dad. And when i did he would always threatening me, yell at me, and do other stuff to me, if u get what i mean. Yea i was on only child and i was only living with my dad, but it doesn’t mean it was all fun and games. When my dad would do those stuff to me i would always think that i could forget bout it and think that it would never happen to me again. I didn’t want to tell any one cause i knew that he would do even mored terrible things to me. And besides i wasn’t going to tell anyone tell i was good and ready to. So then i started to think and i thought sense i won’t tell anyone that i could hurt myself by cutting myself. But not bad were it would kill me or anything like that. When i did cut my self i always made sure that it looked like it was an accident. and i would cover it up so that way people at school and my dad wouldn’t see the cuts i had. Yea i admit i was scarred and i didn’t know what to do. But i had to try to get through it and be strong about it. There was only one thing that i didn’t like that my dad did to me, and that was the most important reason why. He would always say to me, “if you tell any one, I'm going to hurt you, or kill you.” Scar after scar, cut after cut, i would remember what they were for and why there were there. Finally the summer of June 20, 2009 i went to Kansas with my grandma and some other family and with out my dad. When we got there i told every one what was going on and that i was scarred and didn’t know what to do anymore and i couldn’t take the stress anymore. I cried and cried and cried, cause i thought that it was my fault for what had happened and the stuff that was done to me. Person after person, i was told that its not my fault and that i will get the help i need and i would never have to go through the stuff i did for almost half my life. I live with my grandma now and my dad is in jail. Yea i still think about him every once in a while and i think of the good times that we had together but i also think of the bad and i am happy that i have the help i needed. Everyday i look back at the scares that i have and i think about how brave i am, all the things i went through and that they are my battle wounds. Ever sense i moved in with my grandma i haven’t done those things to hurt my self, and I'm happy to live with her. And if it wasn’t for my grandma i would still be with my dad and i would not be safe. And i thank my grandma for being there for me.