After weeks of getting bullied, I was beginning to lose hope. I really needed a way to cope with my sadness. I looked at my Siberian Husky, Diesel, and said, "I wish anda could talk. anda could tell me what to do." He could make noises that sounded like he was talking, but he couldn't talk like a person. One day, I saw a pocket knife, and I don't know what I was thinking, but I made some cuts on my leg. It really hurt, but the pain gave me something to focus on other than how lonely I was. It made me forget about all the bullying....for a brief period. I kept doing it. I later heard a song sejak a band called Nine Inch Nails. The song was called "Hurt". I felt a connection with the first set of lyrics.
"I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel.
I focus on the pain,
The only thing that's real."
One day, my aunt caught me cutting. "Autumn!" she cried. "What are anda doing?!" I dropped the pocket pisau and began to cry. She asked, "Why are anda doing this?" I said, "It helps me cope with loneliness. I don't have any friends." She helped me clean the wounds. She said, "Autumn, anda need to find a better way to cope. It's killing me to see anda like this." She hugged me. She did some research to find ways to help me. I took up painting and played my instruments more. Of course, I did have my bad days, and habits don't disappear like something in a magic act. One day, I got out the pocket knife. I was about to cut myself, but Diesel took it from me and dropped it at my uncle's feet. My uncle then hit the pocket pisau from me. Sometimes, I'd cut with scissors, but Diesel would usually stop me. He'd make a noise that sounded like he was saying, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" It would make me laugh, and I'd forget all about cutting. I still wished that I had a human friend. Then, one day, the seemingly impossible occurred.
"I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel.
I focus on the pain,
The only thing that's real."
One day, my aunt caught me cutting. "Autumn!" she cried. "What are anda doing?!" I dropped the pocket pisau and began to cry. She asked, "Why are anda doing this?" I said, "It helps me cope with loneliness. I don't have any friends." She helped me clean the wounds. She said, "Autumn, anda need to find a better way to cope. It's killing me to see anda like this." She hugged me. She did some research to find ways to help me. I took up painting and played my instruments more. Of course, I did have my bad days, and habits don't disappear like something in a magic act. One day, I got out the pocket knife. I was about to cut myself, but Diesel took it from me and dropped it at my uncle's feet. My uncle then hit the pocket pisau from me. Sometimes, I'd cut with scissors, but Diesel would usually stop me. He'd make a noise that sounded like he was saying, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" It would make me laugh, and I'd forget all about cutting. I still wished that I had a human friend. Then, one day, the seemingly impossible occurred.
No Stable Place
Aside from Uncle Bob, the only other family members who paid me any mind were my grandparents. My grandfather passed away about a tahun and a half after my father's untimely death. My grandmother lived until I started high school. When she was alive, I could always go to her with a problem. Every time I would have a bad hari at school, I would go to her. She would say, "Tell me what's wrong, John." I would tell her what was wrong, and she would make everything better. When she passed away when I started high school, I was devastated. Now I had no one to go to when I had a bad day. That's when my record listening became lebih frequent. Other than my dog, Beatle, it was my only sumber of comfort. I really missed having a person to talk to. I missed having someone who listened to me. When he wasn't working, I could call Uncle Bob and talk to him, but it wasn't the same. Grandma seemed to have an answer for everything. Nobody else seemed to have that gift.
Aside from Uncle Bob, the only other family members who paid me any mind were my grandparents. My grandfather passed away about a tahun and a half after my father's untimely death. My grandmother lived until I started high school. When she was alive, I could always go to her with a problem. Every time I would have a bad hari at school, I would go to her. She would say, "Tell me what's wrong, John." I would tell her what was wrong, and she would make everything better. When she passed away when I started high school, I was devastated. Now I had no one to go to when I had a bad day. That's when my record listening became lebih frequent. Other than my dog, Beatle, it was my only sumber of comfort. I really missed having a person to talk to. I missed having someone who listened to me. When he wasn't working, I could call Uncle Bob and talk to him, but it wasn't the same. Grandma seemed to have an answer for everything. Nobody else seemed to have that gift.
