I always have these thoughts. These thoughts started when I was 12 years old. I thought why don't I die? What's the point of me living if I'm going to keep suffering? Soon I learned that I couldn't die. How funny is that. Everything I tried didn't work. I tried jumping off a building didn't work. I tried drowning it didn't work. I tried burning in a fire it didn't work. Each time someone would save me. It was always a different person but they still saved me. On my 16th birthday a man came to find me and shoot me. I was about to die when an annoying doctor came a saved me. He just had to be a good person didn't he. He couldn't have left me out there to die but that's all I wanted. I just wanted the suffering to end. While I was in the hospital the doctor asked me why I wanted to die and I told him my story. When I was 4 years old my mother killed my father in front of me because she was tiered of my father. My father would always abuse my mother ever chance he got and she was finally feed up with it. We fled the country and we went to italy. There my mother met a rich man with 3 children. We where living as a happy family for 2 years until...

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