You say that everything will get better soon. I believe that it will get worse.
I say that the cuts won’t get deeper. The little scratches soon turn into deep scratches.
I say that the trigger won’t be pulled. It gets pulled a week later.
You say that you will pick us up next week at six o’clock. Its nine o’clock now and I haven’t heard or seen from you yet.
You say the beatings wont hurt and that im being a baby for crying. I feel the pain the next day as I can’t get out off my bed because of the pain in my ribs that’s unbearable.

You say that the words don’t hurt. They hurt more then you think.
You say that the drugs won’t hurt they help you forget what’s going on at home. I try just once and you’re right. It feels like I could fly. I don’t think of what happens behind the closed door of the home off mine. You offer me one drink it will help me feel lose. It dose but it also makes me lose control of my body. I tell you what happens behind closed doors. I wake up the next day by you sitting next to me crying. I ask you why? You just look at me and start all over again. I look outside and there is a car there. I ask you why and you say that you’re sorry and that it’s for the best and that you had no idea what was going on. There is suddenly a knock on the door. You go and answer it. As soon as I see who it is I realize what is happening to me. The women standing their works with the social services and she has come for me. I realize this and I want to run before he finds out. You come inside and tell me that she will take care of me. I say no I don’t need help, you just say yes you do and I’m going to help you. I try protesting again saying that he will be mad if he knew that I told someone what was happing. You ask me who I’m talking about I look at you my body shaking and say my father.