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I was alone, frightened, abused, and upset. My dad just left my family, struggling to get back out there. My mother didn't have a job, an was unable to get one, so I had to.
No one lived a more terrible life, than me, I believed. All the kids at school stoped noticing me. I was a nobody!
The only one that wasthere for me, except my English teacher, Mrs. Riley. As depressed as i was not even the best comedy act could cheer me up. Being a teenager, a girl teenager at that, I went through a stage where I cut myself.
Mrs. Riley always told me I was the best writer in her class. Of course I never believed adults. In a way writing made me feel better about myself, I could get all of my frustation and anger out on paper.
Everytime I thought of my dad, I picked up knife and slid it across my skin. He made me a monster, a monster was what I became.
English, fourth period, my favorite time of the day! Mrs. Riley came upto me and told me about a writing contest.
"Kenna," she started "You are the only one who has a chance of winning this contest."
" Mrs. Riley, I think you are over exaggerating. I bet there are a lot more people you could select."I replied
"Sorry, but I wasn't lying. You are truly the best."
Me, the best, she has definately joking.
"Please, you will do great I can sense it!" She said it with so much persuasion I could not refuse. I took the flyers from her hand, and te bell rang.
Over the past weeks Mrs. Riley helped me with my writing techniques. I learned mettaphors, onomatopoeia, personification, andpersusion tips.
Not only did she help me with english, but my relationship with my mother improved. I also stopped cutting myself. Socialy, I still needed more work, but I would get there.
My English teacher taught me how to find something better to do than cut myself when anger or depression took over. Mrs. Riley told me to write my feelings down and then get rid of them.