I Didn’t Care.

Cold, hard, unbreakable silver bracelets holding my wrists into place. The more I tugged the tighter they got. My feet spread apart as my eyes seemed to wonder, looking at all the little things I never seemed to notice before. I had no feeling, I felt neither remorse nor shame, didn't’t care. At least I pretended didn't’t. Hands searching up and down my body as words went back and forth. Tears didn’t exist to me. I looked back towards the trailer that I lived in. I always felt ashamed to live there. I could see my little sister teary eyed face pressed against the window. She lifted her hand as she pressed it against the glass. My head was nudged down as the car door shut behind me.
April 2, 2011, my 15th birthday, that’s the last time I was home. I had a hard life growing up. You could ask anybody who knew me, that what me and my sisters have been through. We are known as “survivors”. I used to be a great little kid, well so other parents would tell me. My mom was never around. I used to get invited to friends houses a lot. But I think that’s just because they felt bad for me that I was stuck at home watching my little sisters. But didn't’t mind. I loved them. I used to make sure that when my mom got home the house was clean and there was food on the table and that my little sisters were content. I was her little “helper”. I used to love it, moving around going to new schools. I never really could make friends, I really didn’t want to because I knew that sooner or later I would have to leave them. When mom was home it wasn’t much different than when she wasn’t because she was always in her room. I used to be that little kid who would run around naked playing a little guitar because it made people smile. I used to wear glitter on my eyes and bright pink clothes. I was a good student. I was bright and bubbly. I was different. I changed a lot. By the time I was 14, I made a new friend. She was my boyfriends step sister. She also turned into my best friend but she was the kind of friend that your parents wouldn’t want you around. But mine were never home so it didn’t matter. We were inseparable. My boyfriend at the time could see me changing slowly. I think that my parents could but they just didn’t care. I started smoking cigarettes, doing drugs and drinking. I was now considered a “problem”. I think that part of me knew that what I was doing was wrong but I wanted my parents to recognize it, to recognize me. And they did. My grades were dropping at a very fast pace. The people that I talked to before didn't’t talk to anymore, it was for the best. I started wearing makeup and dressing in skimpy clothes. I was a whole new person and I loved it. I would stay up all night partying with strangers and my best friend. And we would sleep all day when we should have been in school. By that time my mom and I started fighting a lot more. I was suspended more often than I was actually in school. I brought alcohol to school and was caught passing that around in school. I don’t think I really realized how much I changed until I couldn’t go home anymore. When I did something wrong and got that slap on the wrist it was always the same answer. I don’t care.

I had already been arrested 4 times for getting into physical fights with my mom, and one for fighting with a girl at school. People were scared of me. I was starting to get scared of myself. I started cutting. It started out those little cuts just to see how they would feel. But then they turned into those big deep cuts. I had to get 6 stitches in one. I was depressed and that showed. I was not okay and everybody could tell that I needed help. But my question was. Why didn’t anybody help? When people look into my eyes I ask them what they see. Some say they see nothing others say I look depressed. I was really out of control the more I think about it. But I was the bully in school I was the girl that people wouldn’t talk to in fear of saying something wrong. I was so tied up into everything that I started to lose the real me. But the real me will never be here again. I have lost so much in my life that the old me is still screaming inside wanting to come out. People think that kid’s lives are so easy. But they have it wrong. Me and my sister can’t sleep in the dark. We wake up with nightmares. I used to think that when I got in trouble I would get that slap in the wrist every single time. But I was wrong!

On April 2, my birthday, I was arrested for punching my mom in the face. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember her running to her room crying and I just stood there emotionless. It seemed like didn't’t care. But I did, I don’t think I knew how to show it though. They took me away to the barracks where my brother picked me up. I lived with him for 2 weeks so that a home could be found for me. I still had that emotionless look and the I don’t care attitude. I went to 3 foster homes before I got to the one where I am now. I was either out of control or they couldn’t handle me. Even though I had that attitude and that look on my face I remember crying myself to sleep at night because of it. Or I would cry when I thought nobody was looking. I still cry. I cry all the time because of my mistakes and what I have done.

Looking back now I realize my life has changed me, the more I grow the more I learn. I have realized that I have changed a lot. I have become a better person. I am now getting good grades I don’t drink I don’t do drugs. I don’t party. I am a completely different person because of that day even though it took me a long time to realize it. Every day I am changing and I have to live with myself and what I have done the rest of my life. And the truth is, I never didn’t care I always have, I just had a hard time showing it. Its good that people learn from their mistakes because I have no Idea where I would be if didn't’t change all I know is that I do care, and always have.