Notes

When i was a kid, my dad used to hit me alot. I remember every single time he hit me, starting from when i was 3. These things never changed, neither did my attitude or my devotion to stop child abuse. He used to hit me every single time i made him mad, when i said something that even slightly angerd him. I loved my dad, but it was just that i got to many bruises from him. Bruises and scars both mental and physical. I promised myself to never hit a single soul, physically harm a person or persons. But it got worse, my mom joined in on the fun and also yelled at me whenever she got the chance to relieve her stress. I knew that our family would fall apart, and i knew that i would end up on the streets as a kid. I wanted to hit them for making our family status go in a downward spiral, but i kept on reminding myself that i would never harm a soul.

When i was almost a teenager, i was on full suicidal thoughts mode. i tried to kill myself every chance i had, but the pain of losing the true inner circle of people close to me was even more unbarable. I ended up closer to knives than closer to me than i was to my family.
My plan was to slowly kill myself as my family went downards and help them realize what they did. But yet again another excuse stopped me. An excuse that i had promised from when i was a child. A promise that i swore on my soul that i would keep. The promise that i would never harm a soul, Including me.